The Jealousy Games
by Funkypurplerhino
Summary: The Hunger Games from Gale's POV. What is going on in Gale's mind and world during the Games. Canon compliant. Gale-centric GaleXMadge, some GaleXKatniss, but this is a Gadge story.
1. Chapter 1

Hunger Games

Chapter 1

I wake up early today. Well, I wake up early every day, but today I wake up especially early. It is still dark outside. I have things to do before I meet my hunting partner...friend... best friend? Before I meet Katniss for breakfast.

I slip out of the bed I share with my two younger brothers as quietly as I can, hoping not to wake them. Throwing on my hunting clothes and picking up my boots from the end of the bed, I go to the kitchen and grab my hunting bag before I step outside. I slip on my boots before heading quickly down the street.

I don't see a soul as I make my way to the Meadow. I stop next to the fence that surrounds District Twelve, listening carefully to make sure it isn't live. In theory the fence is supposed to be electrified at all times, but in reality it rarely is. I crawl under a loose section and move quickly into the woods.

I check my traps and find a squirrel waiting for me. I quickly remove it, putting it into my bag and reset the trap. The other nearby traps yield nothing, so I head back to the fence, through the Meadow and into town.

I hope the baker is up and not his wife. The baker is fond of squirrels, but if his wife answers the door she is likely to chase me away with a string of obscenities rather than to trade. My luck is good. The baker answers the door and I trade him the squirrel for a fresh loaf of bread.

I make my way quickly back to the woods beyond the fence and to the rock ledge overlooking the valley. This is our special place; hidden behind a thicket of berries, yet overlooking the whole valley.

I take an arrow and stick it through the bread and put it back into my bag. Before long I hear her approaching. She is quiet, but I am a hunter. I know the sounds of the woods. And, I know her sounds. Yes, I know her.

Katniss Everdeen. My hunting partner. My best friend. The girl I hope to marry someday.

"Hey, Catnip," I say, using the nickname that only I have for her. As she comes into view I find myself smiling at her. It is rare for either of us to smile anywhere except the woods. It is our refuge. The one place where we are free to be ourselves. Away from responsibilities. Away from the prying eyes of the Capitol and the Peacekeepers.

"Look what I shot," I say as I hold out the bread.

She smiles, taking the bread from me and holding it close to her face. "Mm, still warm," she says. "What did it cost you?"

"Just a squirrel. Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning. Even wished me luck," I answer.

"Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" she says quietly. "Prim left us a cheese."

I smile again. "Thank you, Prim. We'll have a real feast." Putting on my best Capitol accent I say, "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" I pluck a few blackberries, "And may the odds-" I toss one in an arc towards Katniss.

She catches it easily in her mouth and finishes my sentence, "- be _ever_ in your favor!"

As I am slicing the bread, I watch her strip the bushes of their berries.

She has the coloring typical of the people who live in our part of town, the Seam: black hair, grey eyes, olive skin. She could be my sister, but we are not related. It is a good thing, since I feel anything but brotherly towards her. We call each other 'best friends.' I feel so much more than that, but I have never told her how I feel. I don't want to risk what we have now by pushing for more. Maybe when she is a little older, I tell myself.

She returns with the berries as I finish spreading the cheese on the bread, topping each piece with a basil leaf Prim had edged the cheese in. We settle back into the nook to eat, enjoying the view of the valley, the soft breeze, the sunshine and our feast of goat cheese and fresh bread.

If only this were really a holiday. A day we could spend together here in our own special world. A world where we could be safe from things like the Hunger Games.

On an ordinary Tuesday we would both be in school right now. But, it isn't really a holiday. It is the day of the Reaping. Today we will be standing in the square at two o'clock to hear the reading of the names.

"We could do it, you know," I say quietly.

"What?" She asks casually, not looking at me.

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," I say fervently.

She looks at me as if I have lost my mind, and I quickly backpedal, "If we didn't have so many kids."

Not our kids, of course. We are only eighteen and sixteen. We have responsibilities. My two little brothers and sister. Katniss' sister, Prim. And our mothers. They would starve without us to provide for them.

"I never want to have kids," she says firmly, turning back to her contemplation of the valley.

I do. I want to have kids with her. All I say is, "I might. If I didn't live here." I understand how she feels. We live in a harsh world and the thought of bringing more children into it gives you pause.

"But you do live here," she says irritably.

"Forget it," I snap back.

There are a couple of minutes of awkward silence before she asks, "What do you want to do?"

I know she isn't referring to running away. She is back on task- asking me if we should hunt, fish or gather. "Let's fish at the lake. We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight."

Tonight will be a time of celebration for most families. Those whose children's names were not called. Two families tonight will begin weeks of terror, wondering if their children will survive. Or- more likely- how they will die.

We have a successful morning, with a dozen fish, some greens and a whole gallon of strawberries. We go to the Hob, District 12's black market, and trade much of our haul for bread, paraffin and other necessities. Then we head to the Mayor's house with our strawberries. He has a fondness for them and we get our best price from him.

The Mayor's daughter Madge opens the door. She is probably Katniss' only friend other than me. They are both sixteen and two years behind me in school. She has the townie look: blonde hair and blue eyes. Madge is okay, I suppose. She is quiet like Katniss. I don't really know much about her. She keeps to herself much of the time. I have never seen her with a boy, although I know many of the merchant boys like her.

Today her drab school outfit has been replaced with an expensive white dress and her hair is curled and pulled up with a pink ribbon. She looks beautiful and festive in her Reaping clothes.

"Pretty dress," I say. She shoots me a look, trying to decide if it is a genuine compliment or not. I must admit, it is.

She smiles uncertainly and says, "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"

This provokes me. She knows the odds of her being picked are miniscule compared to Katniss and me. "You won't be going to the Capitol," I say as I look at her expensive dress again. She is wearing a beautiful real gold pin on her dress. Expensive enough to feed a family for months, if not a whole year or more. She has never had to take tesserae in order to survive. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

"That's not her fault," Katniss interrupts to remind me that, no, it is not her fault.

"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," I agree harshly.

Madge doesn't look at me. She hands the money for the strawberries to Katniss saying, "Good luck, Katniss." No words of luck to me, even though we all know I have more entries than both of them together.

"You too," Katniss says as the door closes.

We walk back towards the Seam as I ruminate on the unfairness of the system. Every district citizen between the ages of twelve and eighteen are entered in the drawing automatically. Once at age twelve, twice at age thirteen and so on until you have seven entries at age eighteen. If you are poor, you can choose to add your name an extra time in exchange for a year's supply of grain and oil for one person. You can do this for each member of your family. Katniss and I have each had to sign up for tesserae multiple times since we were twelve, just for our families to survive. Madge has five entries. Katniss has twenty. I have forty-two.

It is hard not to resent those who have no need for tesserae and therefore are the least likely to be chosen on Reaping Day. I think the Capitol designed it this way deliberately, to keep us resentful and divided. If you are starving and divided how can you ever plan a rebellion?

When we reach the Seam, we divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin and a bit of money for each.

"See you in the square," she says as she leaves.

"Wear something pretty," I call after her. Maybe it will help me to 'celebrate,' seeing Katniss in something other than her hunting clothes or her usual school outfit. She is always beautiful, although she never makes an effort and has no idea how all of the boys look at her. Me, most of all.

I head home and give this morning's haul to my mother. My brothers and sister are neat and clean and ready to go.

My mother hurries me into the bedroom, telling me to clean up and get ready. She brings in a bowl of water she has just warmed up for me and I see my father's dress shirt and trousers laid out on the bed. Seeing them brings on a wave of sadness as I remember the day five years ago when the sirens blared.

An ordinary day at school. I was sitting in class when suddenly the sirens sliced through the air. There was a moment of stunned stillness before we reacted. Everyone in town knows what the sirens mean. An accident at the mines. Most of our parents and many older brothers work in the mines.

I ran out of my class and found my younger brother, Rory, wandering the halls looking for me. We hurried to the edge of town where everyone was gathering to find out what had happened. There were thousands of people pressing in and I couldn't find our mother. We heard there was an explosion deep down in the mine. It was hours before we found our mother, waiting for our father to come out with the other miners. He never did.

I was thirteen and suddenly I was the man of the house. Responsible to take care of my mother and two younger brothers and the baby my mother was expecting in a few days.

Overnight, we had gone from one of the more secure families in the Seam to one of its poorest. We no longer had my father's income nor the fruits of his hunting. We would soon have five mouths to feed and no income. Even with my tesserae, it would be hard to survive.

Katniss' father had died in the same explosion, along with many others, but I hadn't met her, not yet.

I pull myself out of my reflection and get ready for the Reaping. I am eighteen, so this will be my last. Rory is twelve and it is his first. I didn't let him take tesserae. Next year, I won't be able to so he may have to, even if I go to work in the mines. If I am reaped this year, well, that is another thing I don't want to think about right now.

We eat a quiet lunch of bread made from the grain rations. We will save this morning's bounty for a celebratory meal tonight; when we know that Rory and I are safe from the Reaping.

We head for the square at 1:30. I carry my sister Posy most of the way. She is the only one excited. She sees the bright banners and camera crews. The huge television screens lit up across the square. Only she, at nearly five, is young enough to have no idea what the Reaping is about.

I hand her over to my mother as I head towards the roped off area with Rory. He will be near the back with the other twelve-year-olds. I will be in the front with the older kids. "Don't worry Rory. Your name is only in the ball once," I remind him, sensing his worry.

He looks at me, looking much wiser than a twelve year old should. "I'm worried about your forty-two slips. Not my one, Gale."

I pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, but I have no words of comfort. I fully expect my name to be called today. I have been trying to store up any extra game I could for the past few months to make up for what I will not be able to provide while I am gone. And, Katniss and I have a deal. If one of us gets Reaped, the other will take care of both families. It is a lot of responsibility to leave on the shoulders of a sixteen-year-old girl ... even one as tough and resourceful as Katniss. I must come back to them. To her. I have to win.

I make my way to the front, searching the crowd of sixteen-year-old girls for her as I pass. She doesn't notice me, as her attention is fixated on the stage. Most likely on the balls which hold the names of all of the teenagers in the district. One for the girls and one for the boys.

The Hunger Games are a punishment for the districts. A way to remind us that our ancestors tried to rebel against the Capitol and were crushed. One district was obliterated completely in the Dark Days. The remaining twelve districts are each required to sacrifice to the games one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen every year. The twenty-four tributes will be forced to fight to the death in a televised sporting event which is compulsory viewing for the whole country. To add insult to injury, we are required to treat it as a _celebration_.

It actually _is_ a celebration in the Capitol, whose children are not required to participate.

At exactly two o'clock the Mayor comes to the podium and begins to read. He tells of the history of Panem and the Hunger Games. Reminding us of why we are here. As if we could ever forget.

He reads the names of District Twelve's two Victors. The only two we have had in seventy-three years. Only one still lives. Haymitch Abernathy, the middle-aged drunk who is trying to give a hug to the annoying Capitol escort, Effie Trinket.

She escapes his attentions and bounces up to the podium as the Mayor announces her. She trills her signature greeting, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" in that annoying high-pitched Capitol accent.

I look towards Katniss again and she turns towards me, returning my halfhearted smile. She looks worried. Scared even. I have never seen her look so vulnerable. Is she thinking of her twenty slips or my forty-two? I turn away, suddenly realizing she is most worried about the one person in this world she loves more than anything. Her sister Prim. Prim and her one slip. I wish I could comfort her and remind her that one slip among thousands is nothing. Almost nothing.

My attention is drawn back towards the stage by Effie's excited announcement of, "Ladies first!" as she crosses the stage to the girls' reaping ball.

As she digs around in the ball I am repeating over and over in my mind, 'not Katniss, not Katniss, not Katniss. Please, anyone but Katniss.'

She finally selects a slip and returns to the podium, unfolding it slowly. I hold my breath. 'Not Katniss,' I think one more time.

Effie reads the name with a big smile. I get my wish. It's not Katniss Everdeen.

It's Primrose Everdeen.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Jealousy Games Chapter 2**

Primrose. The only name that could be _worse_ than Katniss.

The crowd murmurs unhappily. No one likes it when a twelve-year-old is chosen. A twelve-year-old has no chance at all. And, everyone loves Prim.

I look towards the spot I had last seen Katniss and see her standing still, clearly in shock. Prim walks slowly down the aisle towards the stage and I know what will happen next. _I know_.

Katniss suddenly shakes off the hands of the people around her and desperately pushes her way towards Prim. I want to run towards Katniss and cover her mouth. Prevent her from speaking. I cannot move. I cannot speak. And, I cannot stop watching. Helplessly. She would never forgive me if I prevented her from protecting her little sister.

"Prim!" she cries desperately as the crowd parts for her. "Prim!" she calls again as she reaches the steps to the stage just ahead of her sister. She sweeps Prim behind her protectively. I don't breathe as I wait for her to say the words that will change my life forever. "I volunteer!" she gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!"

There is a confused silence for a minute. It has been so long since District Twelve has had a volunteer that no one seems sure of the protocol.

Effie recovers first, "Lovely! But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…" she pauses uncertainly.

"What does it matter?" asks the Mayor, looking sadly at Katniss. "What does it matter? Let her come forward."

Prim begins to scream, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister. I hurry forward as Katniss tries to break Prim's hold. "Prim, let go," she says firmly. I know Katniss doesn't want to cry in front of the whole country. "Let go!" she repeats harshly. I reach Prim and pry her arms loose.

Katniss turns to me as I pick a thrashing Prim up into my arms. "Up you go, Catnip," I say as calmly as I can. She turns to mount the stairs and I hurry to find Mrs. Everdeen in the crowd.

"Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!" she smiles. "What's your name?"

I hand Prim over as I hear Katniss give her name. I turn to head back towards my place in the pen of eighteen-year-olds as Effie answers.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?" she smiles. Does this woman have a brain or an ounce of empathy in her body, I wonder? "Come on everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

To Effie's surprise, not a single member of the crowd applauds, or even makes a sound. Whether because they know Katniss or Prim or simply because this is all just so fundamentally wrong, I don't know.

Then someone in the crowd salutes Katniss with an old three fingered salute rarely seen anymore. A salute that means love and admiration. A farewell gesture to someone you love. Katniss is clearly moved. For a moment, I worry she might cry.

Haymitch Abernathy chooses this minute to stumble forward, throwing his arm around Katniss' shoulders. "Look at her. Look at this one! I like her! Lots of…" he hesitates. Then releases her and stumbles towards the cameras. "Spunk!" he declares triumphantly, finally finding the precise word. "More than you! More than you!" he screams into the camera.

Is he taunting the audience or the Capitol I wonder briefly? Until he plummets off of the stage, knocking himself unconscious. Somehow, it seems appropriate.

My attention is on Katniss and I see her take this moment of confusion to hastily compose herself; standing straighter and staring off into the distance.

My mind is reeling with shock. The boy's name will be called any minute. It will very likely be me, I know. Who will take care of our families while we are gone? Only one of us will be coming back. Only one. One of us_ must_ come back. We can protect each other's backs and ensure a victory. There is no other hunting team. Not like us.

What if, by some miracle, I am _not_ called? I could volunteer and make sure she comes back. Of course, there is no guarantee. And our families would be alone for nearly a month. Or possibly forever. But we are a team. A hunting team. We could do it. Ensure a victory for one of us. But, it would only be one. We would never be together. I look up at Katniss and she is staring at me intently. She gives a little shake of her head. She knows what I am thinking and I know what she is saying. Stay here and take care of Prim and my family. Do not volunteer. Whatever you do, do_ not_ volunteer.

Haymitch has finally been taken away on a stretcher and the ceremony is underway again.

"What an exciting day!" Effie exclaims as she tries to straighten her wig, unsuccessfully. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She sticks her hand in; selecting the first one she feels and heading quickly back to the podium.

I am actually hoping she calls my name. Katniss cannot get mad at me if I am reaped. There will be no guilt of abandoning our families. I will be there to protect her.

"Peeta Mellark!" Effie announces.

I am watching Katniss as the name is announced, astounded. It isn't me! Even more surprising than the name is Katniss' reaction to the name. She doesn't look relieved that it isn't me. As soon as the name is called she scans the crowd until she finds him. Peeta Mellark. She doesn't look back to me at all. She is looking in shock at the blond boy mounting the stage. She is upset he was called. It is written on her face. Who is Peeta Mellark to her?

Suddenly I realize they have asked for volunteers and no one stepped forward. As usual. Katniss is still looking at the boy next to her. Maybe she is just realizing that he will have to die for her to come home. As much as I want to protect her, I know I have to be here for both of our families. I will have to trust her to save herself. To come home to us.

As the Mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason I continue to watch the girl I love staring at another boy. A boy I have often caught staring at _her_. They have never spoken, as far as I know, so why does she look...look like that? First she registered only shock at the call of her little sister's name. Then, it was replaced by sadness, quickly followed by resoluteness. A strong, almost fearless determination. Defiance? No, only a brave front. Numb? Yes, numb. But now? She is crushed- simply _crushed_ by this second name.

The Mayor finishes reading and motions for them to shake hands. Their eyes make contact as they shake and I find myself jealous of this boy, even though I know he will die. In the arena. Possibly by the very hand he is shaking at this moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

As the anthem ends, Katniss is immediately taken into well, custody, and "escorted" into the Justice Building where she will have only one hour to say goodbye to all her loved ones before boarding the train for the Capitol.

I hurry after her, but am waylaid by my family who are hugging me and Rory, tremendously relieved that we are safe from the Reaping. I disengage myself as soon as I am able, explaining, "I have to see Katniss before she leaves."

They all understand my need to see Katniss and tell me they will see me at home. I make my way into the Justice Building for only the second time in my life. The first time was to receive a posthumous award honoring my father after he was killed.

I am directed to the rooms holding the tributes, and I see Mrs. Everdeen and Prim waiting to be admitted.

I pull Prim aside, putting my hands on her shoulders, "I need you to do something for me."

She looks up at me with an anxious expression, "W-what is it?"

"I need you to be brave for Katniss. Try your hardest not to cry," she nods her head in understanding. "You know that Katniss would do anything for you, right?" This is obvious, given where we are and why, but I need Prim to do something important.

"Y-yes," she says through a little girl's sniffles.

"I need you to make Katniss _promise_ you that she will win and come home to you," I say urgently. She needs to hold herself together and extract this promise from her sister.

Prim looks at me with understanding and a tremulous smile. "She would never break a promise to me."

"Exactly," I agree.

A minute later, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are escorted into Katniss' room and I see the Mellarks being escorted into the next room. I pace back and forth for several minutes going over the things I need to tell her. I will have less than ten minutes and I have so many things to say. I need to let her know I expect her to win. I know she can do this. I need to give her advice about how to do it. Reassure her I will take care of her family. Should I tell her I love her? Surely she must know I do, at least as a friend. But, does she have any idea how much more than a friend she is to me? Then again, maybe telling her now would be unwise. Introducing a distraction. She doesn't need something else to distract her from her focus. Winning and coming home to us. So, I will tell her when she returns home, I decide.

At the same moment I hear shouting emanating from Katniss' room, the Peacekeepers open the door and go in to retrieve her family.

I am startled by a soft voice and someone touching my elbow, "Gale, are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?"

I look down to see Madge standing next to me. "No, Madge. I'm not all right, but there is nothing anyone can do for me."

We turn to see Mr. Mellark going into the room just vacated by the Everdeens. What is he doing visiting Katniss, I wonder? It surely cannot be very common for a parent of one tribute to visit the other.

I watch the rest of Peeta's family leave the building behind the Everdeens and notice the many kids I assume are his friends standing nearby in small groups comforting one another, but no one has yet stepped up to actually go in to see him.

"Are you here to say goodbye to Katniss?" I ask Madge.

"Yes. She is my only real friend," she whispers tearfully.

I nod my head, "You can go in next. I want to say goodbye to Peeta first."

Madge looks at me in surprise. "I didn't realize you knew Peeta."

I shrug, noncommittally and head over to Peeta's room. The conversations behind me grind to a halt as I approach Peeta's door, but no one challenges my admittance.

I walk in and find him staring out of the window. He turns around when the door clicks shut.

His eyes widen for a moment in surprise before he smiles, leaning back casually against the windowsill. "Hawthorne. I didn't expect you. But maybe I should have. As her self-appointed protector I am surprised you didn't feel the need to volunteer."

I advance menacingly towards him, "Mellark, if you kill her- or contribute her to dying- and you manage to make it back here, you will wish some Capitol mutt had ripped you limb from limb before I am done with you," I state grimly.

He pushes away from the window, standing thoughtfully before me. "You really have _no idea-_ if you believe I could ever hurt Katniss," he says calmly. I thought he must be a cowardly weakling. Him with his eyes red-rimmed from crying, and yet he stands here, toe to toe with me and doesn't back down, despite my greater height and obvious threat. He isn't the least bit intimidated, I realize. He has to know he is not a contender. But I need to make sure he really understands! She is!

"She can _win_," I tell him fiercely.

"God, I hope so," he surprises me by saying.

The Peacekeepers come in and tell me my time is done. I leave without another word, not sure what to make of Peeta Mellark. His friends are crowded close to the door when I emerge. They watch me silently as I head straight for Katniss' room.

I walk in, opening my arms. She walks into them as if being in my arms is the most natural thing in the world. I hold her close, relishing the smell of the woods in her hair. The feel of her body pressed close to mine. I realize we don't have much time.

"Listen," I say, holding her slightly away from me, "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

She looks a little lost as she answers, "They don't always have bows."

"Then make one," I insist. "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."

"I don't even know if there'll be wood." She sounds so defeated. As if she has already given up.

"There's almost always some wood, since the year half of them died of the cold," I remind her. "Not much entertainment in that."

"Yes, there's usually some," she agrees faintly.

I tilt her face up so she is looking into my eyes. "Katniss, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know."

"It's _not_ just hunting. They're armed. They _think_," she insists with a bit of heat. Yes, that's more like my Catnip.

"So do you. And you've had more practice. _Real_ practice. You know how to kill," I remind her grimly.

"Not people," she says, looking a little sick.

"How different can it be, really?" I know I would do this- to come back to her. I need to convince her she, too, can do it. _Must_ do it. Must become a killer. A hunter of men. Ugh- and of girls. And boys. I fiercely cut off and reject this line of thinking. And Katniss must, too. Now. For her sake. For of both of our sakes. But I never get the chance to say it, because the Peacekeepers come to take me away, ignoring my pleas for more time.

"Don't let them starve!" she calls, following us to the door as they drag me away.

"I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember, I-." They yank us apart and slam to door in her face. I'll never get to finish my sentence. 'I will be waiting for you. Always.'

I return to the square in a slight daze. Did I give her enough confidence? Instill enough determination to do _whatever_ it takes to survive? Does she know I love her? I wish I had told her this morning. I wish we had run away together. I wish...I wish... Well, now I have to be strong for our families and trust her to get herself home to us.

I look up and see Katniss and Peeta on the big screens again. They are exiting the cars that have taken them to the train station, surrounded by reporters and cameras. She looks bored, I am relieved to note. Mellark has obviously been crying again. He will be targeted as a weakling and taken out early is my confident guess. That will make it easier for Katniss, I think with some satisfaction.

A few minutes later, they are whisked away onto the train that will take them to the Capitol to prepare for the Games. I watch helplessly as my Catnip is taken away. Gone.

I make my way slowly back home where I find my mother preparing our celebratory Hunger Games meal. I stare numbly at the food Katniss and I gathered this morning: fish, greens and strawberries. Fresh bread. I sit and nibble as my family eats. It might as well be coal dust.

What is Katniss eating tonight? I have heard the tributes are exceptionally well fed before the Games. Like cattle being fattened before the slaughter. I hope she takes advantage of the good food. She is so tiny. Putting on a few pounds could only help her to survive. Who knows how hard it will be to find food in the arena?

After dinner we sit as a family to watch a recap of the Reapings. I don't want to watch, but at the same time, I need to see who her competition is. How many of the twenty-three will she have to personally kill to come home? I know she is struggling with the idea of killing other children. Even though she has no real choice; kill or be killed. What kind of a choice is that?

Districts 1 and 4 are typical looking Careers. I don't doubt Katniss' ability to take them out, when necessary. The boy from District 2 looks like he will pose quite a problem. Huge and strong looking, he lunged forward to volunteer. Cato. I'll remember that name. His district partner has a cruel look about her, too. She was Reaped, but she's obviously a Career. The winner is, more often than not, a Career, but there are a few others who also catch my attention. A sneaky looking girl from 5, a massive giant from District 11. Most troubling is the tiny twelve-year-old girl from 11 who reminds me of Prim. Poor thing. She doesn't have a brave big sister to take her place. Well, she'll go early. Good thing, I begin to think coldly, because no way Katniss could kill her. And she will be killed. Because no one volunteers to take her place. Few kids have siblings brave enough to volunteer. What Katniss did is extraordinarily uncommon. Katniss will never be able to kill this little girl. Hopefully, she will be taken out in the bloodbath so Katniss won't have to be the one to do it.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As the first light of dawn struggles feebly to break through the drizzly clouds outside, I roll over, trying to recapture the remnants of my dream world. A world where my family would be safe. A world where Katniss would be free. And feel free to love me. Where she would feel safe to marry me and have children. Where she would be waking up this morning in a house down the street from me and not on a train speeding to the Capitol and the Hunger Games.

Sleep eludes me as the cold reality of my life surrounds me. Today I will go hunting. Katniss is my hunting partner and this will be the first day in four years I go alone.

I slip out of bed and quietly throw on my clothes. My brother, Rory, rolls over watching me. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asks sleepily.

Maybe I should bring him. No maybe. I _should_ bring him, but I need to be alone today. And he has school. "No thanks. Go back to sleep." I walk out of the bedroom, grab my forage bag and leave the house.

The drizzle has turned into a gentle, cleansing rain. I take a deep breath; the air is cleaner on days like this. I can see the coal dust that covers everything in the Seam collecting in the rain puddles as the day fully dawns.

Soon I am listening for the hum of the electric fence that surrounds District 12. It is quiet, so I crawl under into the woods beyond. As I walk along, everything reminds me of Katniss: the smell of the pine trees, the feel of the bow in my hands, and even the sight of a rabbit caught in a snare. Like the day we first met.

I spend the morning concentrating on checking my snares and setting some extra ones. I have to continue to provide the same amount of food that Katniss and I collected together, but now on my own. Katniss is the superior hunter on our team, and I know it. I should have taken Rory along to help. He is old enough to learn, but I don't want him to face the dangers of illegal hunting.

At midday, I stop to eat lunch on our rock. I see a few blackberries on the bush we ate from yesterday. Was it really only a day ago that we sat here eating the warm bread spread with goat cheese and talking of running away?

Katniss' train must have arrived in the Capitol by now. She would be meeting her stylist and prep team today. Tonight will be the opening ceremonies. I imagine Katniss will make a cute coal miner. I hope they don't have her naked and dusted with coal dust like last year's tributes.

In less than a week she will be in the arena fighting for her life. She is the best hunter I know, but will that be enough? How can she hope to compete against the Career tributes who have been training their entire lives for this? In those districts winning is considered an honor and they have many Victors to act as mentors. They have, in fact, been mentored for years in preparation.

Katniss has District 12's only living Victor as a mentor; the infamous drunk, Haymitch Abernathy. The sadness I have been feeling since she volunteered is slowly superseded by anger. The whole system is so corrupt. So unjust. So….so infuriating!

As the day progresses, I find myself seriously considering how I can fight back. Rebel. The best way? Well, not alone, of course. Start a _rebellion_. Lead it, too, if I must. I cannot be the only one who would be willing to fight and die - if necessary - to overthrow Panem's unjust government. It's a monstrosity. They are a monstrosity. Monsters. Little children in Panem have no need to fear monsters hiding under their beds or in their closets. For the monsters are _everywhere_. And, the monsters rule. The monsters are under their beds and in the very fabric of their lives. This government has no idea what they started by picking Prim. I am going to be their worst nightmare. I swear that this is the beginning of their end.

After I finish hunting and trading I stop by the Everdeen's to check on Prim and her mother. Prim answers the door.

"Hey Gale," she answers.

"Hey Prim. I brought you some stuff from the Hob," I say, coming in as she steps aside. "Where's your Mom?"

"Thanks. She's in the bedroom. I'll tell her you stopped by," Prim says quietly.

Katniss has been gone for one day and her mother is already slipping away? Is that what Prim just told me? "Um, I thought I'd take Katniss' forage bag. Do you know where she keeps it?"

"In the bedroom. I'll get it."

I stop her, "Prim, Is your Mom…okay?"

"She's been crying a lot. But I think that is a good thing. She isn't shutting down, if that is what you are asking."

I'm relieved to hear that.

The tributes' families are required to view the opening ceremonies in public, but most of the games themselves they are permitted to watch at home. Watching a family watching their child or sibling being murdered can (should!) put a damper on everyone's enjoyment – if they have remained normal human beings.

I offer to go with them to the square tonight for the opening ceremonies. A public viewing. A viewing of the public, actually. It is part of the spectacle to see the tributes' families' emotional response. It is a celebration, although a _faux_ celebration for most. Except for those who the monsters have succeeded turning into – into what? Subdued citizens? No, not just that. Minor tyrants, wannabe monsters? Or, simply those who find satisfaction in the torment of others? They seek to create more every year. Just like them.

Well, now. An old thought but from the opposite angle. The emotional brutality of the games and its affect upon _some_ of its viewers. The entire point, right? No wonder why it's mandatory viewing. Hmmm, an effective _recruiting_ tool, that – for the government. Well, now it's become my recruiting tool, too – for the rebellion. Well…._a_ rebellion. Someday, I resolve.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I go home and eat a quick dinner with my family before we return to walk with the Everdeens to the square for the mandatory viewing of the opening ceremonies.

I have been filled with a sickening apprehension all day. What will it be like seeing Katniss paraded before all of Panem in preparation for the slaughter? Perhaps her slaughter. Tonight we will see the Capitol stylist's version of Katniss. Will she be publicly humiliated, naked and sprinkled with coal dust, as last year's tributes were? Please- not that.

The all-important sponsors will get their first look at the tributes this night. These first impressions will be critical to determine who will get the life-saving sponsor gifts in the arena. Sponsors often make snap judgements- even fall "in love" with some tributes. District 12 never makes a good impression. The costumes are based on the districts' chief industry and there is nothing glamorous nor exciting about coal. Nothing memorable. Nothing fierce. Nothing. A big nothing.

Katniss is generally oblivious to the attention she generates among the boys at school. If she had any idea, she would be extremely uncomfortable as she hates being the center of attention. She hates any attention. How will she hold up to being paraded before the nauseatingly excitable crowds in the Capitol? Just how badly will they react to Katniss' hostile, aloof persona?

The hopefulness I have been clinging to since the Reaping is slipping away as I analyze the difficulties to come. What kind of arena will she face? A wooded landscape would be to her advantage, but rarely do they give heavy woods or forests, although some woods are genreally provided. A bare landscape with no hiding places makes for too quick an annihilation, after all. She will surely be much smaller than most of the others. She has been better fed and healthier than the average kid in District 12's Seam, but compared to the wealthier Career districts, she is again at a disadvantage. If she comes off as frightened or a hostile little girl tonight, how will she ever attract enough sponsors? Any sponsors?

I cannot allow myself to wallow in my fears and doubts tonight, I reprimand myself coldly. I have to be strong for Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. I owe it to Katniss to give them all of the support I can throughout this night. And more throughout the upcoming weeks of horror. The games will likely last anywhere from two weeks to a month.

As we approach the square I can already hear the noise. Noise from hundreds of people milling around, talking. Normally there is a semi-celebratory air in the square on the night of the opening ceremonies, but tonight the atmosphere- the mood of the crowd- is decidedly discontent. We are not close enough to pick up on specific words or conversations, but somehow I know. The crowd is displeased. Normally, the sense of relief is palpable. So many relieved their loved ones were not chosen. Is it my hunter's instincts? Or merely the fact that I spent the better part of today prowling the woods dreaming of a rebellion?

As we make our way through the crowd, the talking ceases and the crowd parts for us. I look around, wondering if this is really as different as it appears, or does it only seem different because I am so _involved_ this year? I search the crowd for Peacekeepers, noticing that even they seem aware of the crowd's unusual demeanor. And they look a little nervous, I note with a satisfaction that surprises me and feels out of place. To be pleased with their anxiousness in the midst of my own.

We make our way to the front row which is roped off for family members. As my mother and siblings file into the second row, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen ask us to sit with them, so we all slide into the front row. A front row seat to Katniss' humiliation is not what I had prepared myself for.

Almost immediately people begin filing by to greet Mrs. Everdeen and Prim. I feel completely self-conscious as they go by. I want to be part of her family. To have the right to call her mine. But officially, I am only her friend, with no right to sit here in the family row.

The Mellarks arrive just as the screens light up. Living right on the square is obviously an advantage in avoiding extra time in the spotlight, if anything can be seen as an advantage when your child is about to be thrown into the Hunger Games. They file silently into the seats across the aisle from us. Mr. Mellark looks numb. Like he hasn't been able to process the reality, yet. Who has?

I look around the square, seeing the hundreds of District 12 residents who have shown up for the opening ceremonies sitting quietly in the rows behind me. Why do we do this, I rage silently. Follow orders, offer our children up like sheep for the slaughter. Because we are sheep. Sheeple. Too afraid to do anything – it _could _make things worse.

Yes, but…The voices of the TV commentators now drag my attention to the screens. They are talking excitedly about how happy they are to be here for yet another _exciting_ Hunger Games Opening Ceremony. The cameras pan the Capitol crowds who are packed tightly into the City Circle and on every balcony and window in anticipation of the show. They are teeming with excitement. Hunger. Bloodlust.

The commentators, a slim man with unnaturally red hair and a bubbly woman with green hair and unlikely purple eyes, are telling us what to expect tonight. Pairs of tributes will be paraded through the City Circle in chariots dressed in costumes representing their district's chief industry. Why do they act like we don't know this, I have to wonder? Every year is the same, well, nearly the same. We get glittery jewels from District 1, warriors from 2, electronics from 3, fishing or mermaids from 4, and so on and so on. There are never any real surprises after seventy-four years of this. It would be boring- depressingly boring- if I were not so _connected_ this year.

As dusk descends on Capitol the huge double doors to the Remake Center open and the crowd in the Capitol draws an expectant breath, awaiting the first chariot. District 1 is always a crowd favorite and this year is no exception. The Capitol crowd erupts in enthusiastic cheers as the first chariot emerges pulled by two snowy white horses, their tributes covered in jewels. The crowd in Twelve becomes eerily silent, in stark contrast.

We watch as the tributes emerge, two by two, to be greeted with varying levels of enthusiasm by a rabid crowd. Cheers for the favorites, boos for the disfavored. Some look confident and smile at the crowd, but most look stunned and fearful. Prey. Just like prey, stunned to find themselves in the trap. None of the tributes so much as even acknowledge the presence of their fellow district tribute standing next to them, preferring to look off into the crowd or at their feet. Who can blame them, when they will be thrown into the arena together in mere days?

The cameras focus again on the Remake Center as the District 11 chariot emerges. The crowd is oddly quiet at the absurd sight of the massive boy tribute next to the tiny, delicate little girl tribute. How can anyone think this is just or in any way acceptable? She has absolutely no chance at all; tiny, delicate and _twelve_ years old. I actually see red- literally. My blood pressure is felt in my ears and I hear my blood pumping. The youngest victor ever was a fourteen-year-old boy from one of the career districts: the Capitol's favorite Victor, Finnick Odair. I don't think any twelve-year-old has ever survived even the first day.

I am now riveted to the screens. She is next! I will get to see my girl now. It is getting dark in the Capitol, I notice, realizing I might not get a great view of Katniss in the deepening shadows. It has been dark in District 12 since the show began.

They announce District 12 as the doors open. And I stop breathing as I see flames. The crowd in the Capitol screams in alarm. Prim screams and buries her head against her mother. Everyone screams. Well, not _everyone_, but I am struck dumb. The shock of it all. As if her death has already begun. The chariot emerges, seemingly engulfed in flames. Before I can process it the Capitol crowd is cheering "District 12!" in excitement as the camera zooms in on Katniss' radiant smile.

She smiles? She is smiling! I feel immense relief. As if given a second chance. A second life. I take in a huge gulp of air and lean over to coax Prim out, "Prim, she is fine. Katniss isn't hurt," I say as much so I can hear the words as for Prim. "The flames are not hurting her. Either she is dressed to protect herself or they are synthetic." Prim glances tentatively at the screen as I also turn back to Katniss.

She is luminous. Beaming. She looks so unbelievably beautiful, lit by the flames. I sit there in stunned shock trying to reconcile this image with my Catnip. My hunting partner. My oblivious, lovely and clueless Catnip. The girl who cares nothing for her appearance or for boys' interest in her. Basking in the adoration of the delirious crowd.

She is smiling brightly. More brightly than I've ever seen. How can this be? Katniss smiling. Katniss waving. Katniss blowing kisses? Katniss? _Blowing kisses? _Surely, the world is ending.

She looks like some mythological goddess greeting the mere mortals who worship her, standing proudly in her chariot, trailing flames that dare not engulf her. It is surreal. The crowd shouts her name now (and Peeta's). She is being showered with roses, showered with cheers. She catches one of the roses easily with one hand, bringing it to her face and inhaling deeply, and then throwing yet another kiss directly at the camera. I feel an almost irrational need to reach up and catch it. I restrain myself, of course. But it was _my_ kiss.

The camera pans among all of the tributes, but seems to spend a disproportionate amount of time on District 12, I notice with a new spark of hope. I wonder if this is the same feed all of Panem is seeing or if we are seeing more of our home district. Judging by the scenes reflected on the screens in the City Circle, everyone is seeing the same thing we are.

I force myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. She is in no danger. Yet. I see Katniss turn to Peeta, smiling and talking, their luminous, smiling faces featured for all of Panem to see. Both of them lit up by their flickering flames, they look -_otherworldly_. The camera pans out and I see that she is _holding hands_ with Peeta! _Smiling_ at Peeta. Why? Such a show of unity is unheard of between tributes. I flash back to the look on her face when his name was called at the Reaping. Surely if they were friends I would know. She doesn't keep secrets from me. I think back to all of the boys who watch Katniss and he _is_ one of them. One of many, but I have never seen him do anything more than stare longingly in her direction.

Katniss has never had a crush on a boy, as far as I know. She has neither the time nor interest in anything other than surviving. It has been the sole focus of her life since I have known her. Her only focus. The only person who evokes softer emotions in her is Prim.

It is not friendship. It is not a crush (on Katniss' side, anyway). So what could this be? A strategy? What kind of a strategy would necessitate such a display? It has a slightly rebellious feel to it, I realize. My brief concern over their motives is replaced by a feeling of surprise. Are they making a _political_ statement? A show of unity among tributes? And any _successful_ rebellion had best have unity. Unity of purpose. I am excited by the possibility before I think of Katniss' motivation. Katniss. She is not motivated, as I am, by the bigger picture of injustices in Panem. Fueled by dreams of a rebellion. She is only motivated by two things. Survival. And her love for Prim. That's it. I am quite at a loss to understand this exotic, shimmering version of my Catnip.

I have missed the entirety of the president's speech, meditating on Katniss and her possible motivations and strategy. Drinking in her dazzling beauty and assuring myself that _surely_ the hand-holding has some _strategic_ significance.

As the chariots make the final circuit of the City Circle I am once again perplexed to see Katniss smiling and blowing kisses at the crowd. Once again laughing with Peeta. Still holding his hand, too. Her fingers _entwined_ with his. I am vaguely displeased, disconcerted. How much can she have changed in only one day, I wonder as she disappears in a cloud of flames into the Training Center.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

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	6. Chapter 6

THG Gale Chapter 6

The Training Center doors close behind them with a resounding rumble. This will be her prison until the Games begin.

The announcers are talking about the excitement of the crowd and the general impressions made by each district, but again, District 12 seems to be dominating the coverage.

They interview many past victors and all of the stylists. Most are people we see every year, but when they introduce the stylists for District 12 I see they are new this year. The man, Cinna, refers to Katniss as "the Girl on Fire," saying that the costumes were inspired by burning coal and Katniss' fierce determination to win. I am dubious of this, seeing as he never even met Katniss until today and the costumes had to have been designed and made before the Reapings had even taken place. Still, giving Katniss more air time can only help her to get more sponsors. A sponsor. I don't think District 12 has ever had any, not even Haymitch.

Eventually the Mandatory Viewing is over and we are allowed to move about the square. The screens continue to show a recap of the ceremonies accompanied by analyst voiceovers and interviews. I find my eyes constantly drawn to them; mesmerized by this exotic, alluring Katniss the cameras cannot seem to get enough of. I feel a pang of grief, looking at her. Is she already slipping away? Becoming a different person? No one remains unchanged by the Hunger Games, they are simply too horrific. But do the changes really begin as _soon_ as they are in the hands of the Capitol?

I find myself suddenly surrounded by kids from my year in school. Everyone has something to say, but I find myself unable to focus enough to hear them. I notice the mood has shifted dramatically from when I arrived. District 12 has never made such a spectacular showing before and the crowd is excited. Actually excited. Celebrating for real. We have a real chance at bringing home a Victor this year, they realize. A real, live neighbor who returns, not two kids in coffins.

Not surprisingly, the ones who feel least like celebrating are the families, and they leave quickly as soon as the Mandatory Viewing portion of the evening is over. I don't feel like celebrating either, but I stay. Not to celebrate, but to circulate. Circulate among the crowds to see if I can find something. Someone. Somewhere in this crowd there has to be at least one other person who thinks as I do. That this is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. That this has to end. And that we will find a way to bring it to an end.

As I walk among the crowd hoping to listen anonymously to the chatter around me as I blend in- I notice something. I am not _among_ the crowd. Not _anonymous_. And certainly not _blending_. Everyone seems to know me. Everyone is aware of me. Glancing at me. It is a bit disturbing to realize I am so recognizable to so many. Not only to the residents of the Seam, either. No, the people from Town seem to be aware of me, too.

Eventually, I give up trying to listen in and drift off to the back row of chairs to think. How am I going to find other like-minded people in 12? I know they exist. They have to. Where are they? Of course! The mines! I know my father felt the way I do. He was a miner and I am certain he was not alone in his dreams of a rebellion. I remember hearing stories growing up about the mines being hot beds of agitation and violent demonstrations before the Dark Days. Soon I will be working in the mines. I will become anonymous in their dark tunnels. I will listen and I will find them there.

The looming reality of working in the mines sends a chill down my spine. It is both a blessing and a curse. It will be such a relief to finally have the regular income to help provide for my family- and Katniss' family- that will come from having a steady job. The pay is miserably poor- but since being a student pays nothing- it will be only a change for the better.

The sole place I ever feel alive or at peace is in the forest. The fresh, clean air. The open, free feeling of being outside the boundaries of the fence. I am a hunter. It is what I am. Who I am. But I cannot do it full time. In a free society I might be able to make a living doing it, but not here. It has to be secretive, even though the Peacekeepers and even the Mayor turn a blind eye to our thriving black market.

Now that I have passed the Reaping of my 18th year, I am an adult in the eyes of the state. I no longer have to go to school. It is time to begin my adult life. Which for the vast majority of people in District 12 means working in the mines. Especially anyone from the Seam.

The money will be more than a blessing. It will be a _necessity_ now that I am too old to collect tesserae. I will not allow Rory to sign up, even though he is now eligible. Between working in the mines, hunting on my one day off and my mother's laundry business, it will be enough. It _has_ to be enough.

Once the Games begin the fence will be electrified most of the time until they end. Everyone must have electricity during the Games, after all. I will not be able to hunt then. I have four days to store up as much as I can manage to get us through the next few weeks. Katniss will have three days of training and a fourth day preparing for the interviews during which time we will not see her at all. The evening of the fifth day, Monday, will be the interviews. That will be our final glimpse of her before she enters the arena.

They will turn the electricity on sometime on Monday, but I should be able to go out early and at least clear the snares of game. Take them all down, too, since I won't be able to check them for several weeks.

I will sign up at the mines once the Games are underway. The first day of the Games is a holiday and the mines are shut, anyway. The monsters in charge wouldn't want anyone to miss a moment of the arranged bloodbath.

I am suddenly overwhelmed by the press of people in the square. Thoughts of the claustrophobic mines. Visions of my father being blown to pieces down in the dark tunnels. Scenes from past Hunger Games replaying in my mind- but with Katniss as the victim.

I hurriedly leave the square and head for the fence. It's as if I have to come up for air. Someplace where I can be free. For a moment, just a moment. I have to get out. Someplace I can be alone. Someplace I can breathe. Dropping to the ground I nearly go under without checking before I remember tonight was a Mandatory Viewing. I stop and listen and sure enough, there is the steady hum of electricity coming from the fence. I am angry. So careless. So- trapped. I pick up a nearby branch and throw it angrily at the fence and hear the sharp zap. I am so frustrated I briefly consider digging the hole deeper and going under the fence anyway. I feel- rebellious.

Dragging myself away from the fence I flop down on my back in the Meadow. The portion of the fence by the Meadow is our favorite entrance to the woods. The Meadow is full of fireflies twinkling in the darkness. Katniss loves fireflies. Even here in the Meadow everything reminds me of her. Eventually I check the fence again and it is still humming, so I turn back towards the Seam. What is Katniss doing right now, I wonder staring up at the starry night as I walk. She is so far away from me. It hurts. Is she thinking about me? What a worthless, selfish thought is that? She shouldn't be thinking about me! I hope she is getting plenty of rest in preparation for her first day of training tomorrow. She must keep her focus. Must survive. Learn as much as she can during the training. Prepare to fight. So that she can come back to me. And Prim. Yes, she has to come home to Prim.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Author's note**

** Thanks to all of my reviewers! **They really keep me motivated to write more!****

**While Gale is in the Meadow looking at the stars and the fireflies Katniss is with Peeta on the roof of the Training Center, noticing that the twinkling lights of the Capitol look like fireflies :)**

**Only a couple more chapters until the Games begin!**

**I am a little disappointed with this chapter, but I am sticking with the chapter timeline in the book so the chapters match up and there wasn't much to work with in this one. Chapter 7 will be much longer and, hopefully, much better since it gives me four days to work with instead of only a few hours.**

****Please review! Let me know what you liked, what you hated, typos I missed, whatever!****


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Thursday**

_I am running through the forest, chasing a laughing Katniss. She dodges around trees and hops over rocks, as graceful as a deer. She smiles back over her shoulder, checking to see how close I am to catching her. I am very close. Suddenly, she turns and launches herself into my arms. I catch her easily, pulling her close, her body molding with mine. I lower my head and capture her lips with mine as she twines her fingers through my hair. I lower us down to a bed of pine needles as she clings desperately to me…_Crash…Bang…Bang…

My dream is rudely interrupted by someone banging around in the kitchen. Who the? It isn't even light out, yet! I decide to ignore the noise, rolling over, trying to recapture a so sweet moment - Katniss in my arms. Katniss. My Catnip. Who is so far away. No, I don't want to think of that. I want my dream to be reality. Pulling my pillow over my head, I try to force myself to go back to sleep. Back to her. It is no use. There will be no more dreams this morning.

Pulling the pillow off of my face I notice that Rory isn't in bed. What would he be doing in the kitchen at this hour of the morning?

The sky is just beginning to lighten, but even so, it is already warm today. I pull aside the curtain and see the thick haze outside. Humidity and coal dust. Not a welcoming sight in the morning. I throw on my clothes and go find Rory.

"Hey, Gale," he says with an innocent smile.

"Hey, Rory. Why are you up?" it is all I can do not to verbally demolish him for ruining my sleep. My dream of Katniss.

"I made you breakfast," he says, looking very pleased as he spoons out a bowl of mush for me. Rory has never made me breakfast. In fact, he has never gotten up before me. Ever.

"Thanks," I say as I sit down at the table to eat. I am suspicious, but I don't ask. I am sure he wants something. So I am sure he will tell me before I leave. After all, that has to be the point of making me breakfast, right?

He spoons out a second bowl and joins me. We eat in silence for a few minutes. "So, Gale, I was thinking," he starts.

Yep. Here is comes. I give him what I hope is an encouraging look as I finish eating.

"You should take me with you this week."

"No," I say flatly. I don't want Rory to start poaching. I don't want him to feel the weight of responsibility I had thrust upon me at such a similarly young age.

"Gale, you _need_ my help. We only have four days before-" I cut him off abruptly.

"You have school."

"We can tell them I'm sick," he argues.

"No, Rory. I appreciate the offer, but I can do it myself. I have all day, remember. You need to go to school."

"Why? So I can learn more about coal and propaganda? I don't need no school to be a coal miner," he hisses.

I sigh heavily. "Maybe you won't have to _be_ a coal miner. But you need to keep your grades up to have any choices."

He scoffs. "I want to _help!_ I'm not a little kid anymore. You weren't much older than me when you took on the responsibility for the whole family Gale!" Not much older than_ I_, I think, mentally correcting his grammar. Why do I care about such things? Does it really matter?

"And I don't want you to have to worry about that. You will be grown up soon enough as it is. What if I take you with me on Sunday?"

"All day Sunday. And after school Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Just like you have always done with Katniss," he insists, bargaining smoothly. Clever. Take the concession and immediately go for more.

I smile slightly. When did Rory grow up so much? "Ok. You walking Prim home?" At his nod, I continue, "I'll meet you at the Everdeen's after school, then."

He smiles at me as if I just gave him the moon. "Thanks Gale. You won't be sorry. I promise."

"Thanks for breakfast," I say. I stand up and rumple his hair before heading out.

I find myself heading further into the woods than normal. The haze in the District today is going to be oppressive. I want to breathe clean air. I want to smell the _forest_, not the mines.

This morning's efforts are fruitful, despite being on my own. By the time I need to return to meet Rory I have two rabbits, two squirrels and a wild turkey.

The worst part is not having Katniss to talk to. I am so used to her being here. She listens to my rants. Understands them. Gives me the feedback that I apparently need. Today I nearly find myself talking to myself, just to get my thoughts clear.

I give one of the rabbits to Mrs. Everdeen and hand Katniss' hunting bag to Rory before we head back into the woods. We spend the rest of the afternoon checking and resetting snares, accumulating another two rabbits to trade. I am surprised at how attentive and serious Rory is about _everything_ I say. I realize I had expected him to be more of a hindrance than a real help today.

We make our way to the Hob to unload some of our game. Some my mother will smoke to put away for the coming weeks when we won't have access to fresh meat. The turkey I decide to take to the Head Peacekeeper, Cray. He has a particular fondness for turkey. Even so, I tell Rory to go home before I go to Cray's. I don't want it to become common knowledge that Rory is poaching. One outlaw in the family is more than enough.

As I am heading home, I hear my name being called. Turning around, I find the baker heading towards me carrying something.

"Mr. Mellark?" I say politely. I find it a bit awkward to talk to Peeta's dad. After all, I am hoping that he gets killed in the arena. There doesn't seem to be any easy way round that fact.

"Gale, I'm glad I spotted you," he says, slightly out of breath from hurrying across the square.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask. Other than your son and my best friend being in the Hunger Games together, I leave unsaid. Yes. Other than that minor problem.

"No, not really. I just wondered if you would be willing to help me with something?"

Awkward. "Of course. What is it?" I hope it is something I can help him with.

He puts the package he was carrying into my arms. "Would you make sure the little girl gets this? I promised Katniss that I would make sure her sister was eating."

"This is for Prim?" I ask unnecessarily. Of course. Does Katniss have another sister? I am just so shocked. People simply do not give away food in District 12. They do not promise to feed a tribute's family. "Of course. I'll take it straight there. I'm sure your promise gave Katniss a lot of comfort. She loves Prim more than anything."

"Thank you. And, next time you have a squirrel to trade, make sure you come by."

I had actually been planning to avoid the bakery, but obviously he's making a point that he doesn't want that. "Sure thing. I'll do that," I agree. Surprise after surprise.

"Thanks. Actually, if you could make it a point to come by every few days to pick up a package for Prim, that would be a great help. I don't know where they live. We need to stick together. Support each other, no matter what happens." And I am betting he doesn't want to have to explain to Mrs. Mellark why he is suddenly delivering free bread to the Seam.

I don't think I have heard so many words come out of the baker's mouth in a single day before. "I will. I will do that. Thank you. I'm getting them some meat, but this bread will be a wonderful blessing for them, Mr. Mellark."

He blushes, "Well, I'll be seeing you around then, Gale."

"Yeah, I'll try and bring you a squirrel tomorrow, although Katniss…" I trail off awkwardly. I was about to say that Katniss is the better shot between us, but I know he doesn't want to hear what a good shot she is when she is going to be in the arena with his son. A target. Ugh, this is awful. I was better off before he started being so nice. It had never occurred to me before how even the normal interactions between the tributes' friends and families can be perverted by them being chosen. Further dividing the district. I despise the Capitol.

"Good, I'll see you tomorrow, then," he says as he walks away. I realize that Mr. Mellark is refusing to let the Capitol change him by stealing his son. Stealing his son to punish him for something done before even he was born. Before any of us were born. Feeding Prim and going out of his way to maintain our trading relationship are his way of saying he refuses to be a part of their games. Mr. Mellark is a quiet, soft spoken man. But he is a rebel in his own, quiet way.

When I get home I help my mom around the house and put Posy to bed. Then I help Vick with his homework before going to sit out on the porch for some time alone. I have succeeded in keeping myself so busy today that I haven't had time to dwell on what Katniss was doing today.

Day 1 of Training. She obviously met the other tributes today. Was it the first time or did they meet last night before opening ceremonies? Was it only last night? What was her strategy today? Show off her archery skills? Work on learning something new? Draw attention to herself or be invisible? Knowing Katniss, she chose to learn something new and stay invisible. Do they interact enough to be able to gauge one another's skills? Did she hold Peeta's hand today? No! I am not going there. I'm just not. It's disconcerting. They will be in the arena soon trying to kill each other. What am I thinking?

I am obviously too tired to think rationally so I head off to bed. I warn Rory not to make any unnecessary noise in the morning.

Friday

I wake up with a smile on my face and brush the imaginary pine needles from my hair. As I open my eyes, I find Rory propped up on one elbow grinning down at me.

"So, _Katniss_, hmm?" he asks with a grin.

"What _about_ Katniss?" I ask sleepily.

"You were umm…_talking_. In your sleep," he adds mischievously.

"_What?"_ I exclaim in surprise, suddenly wide awake. What did I say? Last night's wonderful dream flashes through my mind. Katniss. The forest. The pine needles. I throw off the covers and grab my clothes.

Rory's answer is to roll back, laughing.

It's so comforting to know I can provide free entertainment. I throw him a dirty look, "Shut up. You're going to wake everyone," I hiss at him before I stalk out the door.

Do I really talk in my sleep? I must, otherwise how would Rory have known? I make my way to our rock and sit down, my head in my hands_. Katniss_. If possible, I only miss her more now. "Katniss," I whisper. "I miss you so much."

I don't know how long I sit there, lost in a daydream. Night dreams are problematic for those who apparently talk in their sleep. I wonder if I snore, too. Eventually I notice the sun is higher in the sky and force myself to move. I shift into hunting mode now. Rory can help me gather and check the snare line later after school. If he knows what is good for him he will forget all about my dream. Or at least pretend to.

When we are done checking the line, he begins, "Gale, Do you love Katniss?"

"Of course. She is my best friend," I answer. She is more than that. Much more. But how much more?

"Is she your girlfriend?" he pushes.

Is she my girlfriend? I realize- not for the first time- that I wish she was. But no. Not officially. I think many people think she is. Especially the boys at school. I realize I have made it a point to shield her from all unwelcome attentions. What was it that Peeta called me? Her "self-appointed protector." Do I do that to protect _her_ from their unwelcome attentions or do I do it for me? To make all of the boys see that she is taken. Unobtainable.

Whatever it is, it works. The boys _never_ approach her. Maybe they fear me. The fact that many assume we have a relationship doesn't seem to bother the other girls, though. At least not in the sense of making _me_ seem off-limits or taken. Girls are always flirting with me. Watching me. Whispering about me. Sometimes I enjoy the attention. Sometimes I find it annoying. They don't even know me. Only Katniss knows me.

I finally answer, "No, she isn't my girlfriend. She isn't interested in having a boyfriend right now," I find myself confiding.

As we work I continue to think about her. About our relationship. Friendship. And a bit more than that.

Friday night I am hanging with some friends in the square when Madge approaches me. "Hey, Gale." She smiles.

"Hey, Madge." My friends start elbowing and shoving each other. For some reason they feel compelled to demonstrate what idiots they are whenever a pretty girl is in the vicinity. Especially if she is talking to me. Which, of course, is most of the time.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my house for a bit?" she blushes.

Did Madge Undersee just invite me to her house? The Mayor's daughter. To say that the class distinction between Townie and Seam is rigid is not an understatement. And Madge is the undisputed princess of District 12. Probably the reason she has so few friends is due to the fact that, as the Mayor's daughter, she is in a class by herself. She is as far above the Townies as the Townies are above the Seam.

My friends have stopped their wrestling. No doubt dying to see how I handle this. How will King of the Slag Heap Hawthorne respond to an invitation from Princess Madge?

Curiosity, more than a wish to maintain my reputation, compels me to accept. "Sure thing, Madge," I smile at her. Girls swoon at my smile and I notice she blushes a deeper shade of red. "I'll see you guys- tomorrow," I say to my friends as I leave with her.

She is quiet and a little jittery as we cross the square to her house. I think she has some suspicion about how I feel about Katniss, so what has motivated this unusual invitation?

As we walk in the front door I realize I have never been inside the Mayor's house. Not even the kitchen, which is the door I always use when delivering strawberries.

I look around the entry hall in curiosity. It is nearly as big as my house. I try to suppress this line of thought. I am curious why she has asked me here and I don't want to get side-tracked thinking about social injustices.

I lean against the doorframe to the living room as Madge walks over to the TV and turns it on. She invited me over to watch TV? Good thing my friends aren't hanging around, I laugh to myself.

"So, you wanted to watch TV? Why invite me?" I ask.

"My father is working late tonight," she offers.

"Really?" I ask, wondering where she is going with this. "Where is your mother?"

"She is in bed with a headache. She took her meds, so she won't be waking up until morning. Have a seat," she pats the seat on the couch next to her.

"Aren't you worried your father might come home, unexpectedly?" I ask as I take the offered seat.

"Not really. We are only watching TV, after all."

"Right. TV. What are we watching, again?" I haven't even glanced at the TV and she hasn't turned on the volume.

"Did you know that we get some of the Capitol programming? The stuff that isn't shown to everyone in the Districts?"

"No. I didn't know that."

"In the Capitol they have 24/7 coverage of the Games, instead of just the one hour at lunch and the nightly coverage we get. Because my father is the Mayor we get some of those channels. The full coverage doesn't start until Tuesday, but tonight they are doing a special on the tributes' training. I thought you might like to watch it with me," she says as she turns on the volume.

I look at her in surprise before turning towards the TV and sure enough there are the commentators from the Opening Ceremonies explaining what the tributes did during the first two days of training and introducing the Gamemakers. We never see this stuff. I hadn't even realized they filmed the training.

We sit in silence as the program progresses. After we meet the Gamemakers they flash pictures of all of the tributes and then proceed to show clips of them in training.

The Gamemakers are typical Capitol creatures, all dressed in matching purple robes. The Head Gamemaker has a fur collar on his. They are shown walking around a gymnasium observing tributes at different stations. I am scanning anxiously for a glimpse of Katniss. Who are these people? What kind of sadistic person chooses to be a Gamemaker, I have to wonder.

I finally catch a glimpse of Katniss- with Peeta- at some kind of camouflage station. I am relieved to see she looks more like my Katniss since she left to get ready for the reaping. She is dressed casually (I am ignoring the fact that she and Peeta are dressed alike.) with her hair braided in her normal fashion. She scowls at Peeta, he smiles as he responds and she walks off.

The cameras are following the Gamemakers for the first hour or so, with occasional glimpses of the tributes. They promise more of the tributes later in the program.

As they break for commercials and announcements Madge asks if I would like a snack. We go to the kitchen where she pulls out a tray of sliced meats from a fully stocked refrigerator and makes us a huge plate of sandwiches. Then she makes up a platter of cheese and crackers and a bowl of grapes. This "snack" is more food than my family of five would eat for an entire meal. Maybe even an entire day. We carry it back to the TV room and Madge leaves to get us some drinks. I find myself wishing I had my forage bag with me so that I could stuff it with some of this food for my family. I decide to simply eat enough of it that I won't need to eat tomorrow.

Madge returns with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses filled with ice. Ice- in June- what a strange concept. So this is luxury. It's luxurious.

The commercials are geared towards preparations for Hunger Games parties, which appear to be a ritual in the Capitol. Inviting your friends over to eat and root for your favorite tributes every night. Trying to outdo your friend's party of the night before. A game of one-upmanship.

We settle back on the couch as the program resumes. They start with a profile of the District 1 tributes, following them about, showing them easily handling swords and spears.

Madge and I talk (mostly her) and eat (mostly me) as we watch the districts train. I stuff myself with the delicious food. I have never been so full in my life and it feels strange. I relax back into the plush couch, watching the districts pass. How can I be so relaxed watching these kids train for the _Hunger Games?_ Watching Katniss train? While I sit here stuffing my belly and sipping lemonade with the Mayor's daughter? I know Katniss wouldn't mind. She would be mad at me if I refused the food on principle, I think with a slight smile. I wonder if she has been eating this well in the Capitol.

It's as if I'm at one of those parties, except not. This isn't a party. Madge and I aren't partying. Aren't rooting for death. Not exactly.

Predictably, District 12 goes last. I notice immediately that Peeta is following Katniss around the gym. Like a puppy. A large puppy. It wasn't simply that they had caught them together in the earlier clip. They are together in _every single_ clip. What the hell is he doing? None of the other districts were training together. Why doesn't she tell him to get lost? This is certainly not the time to make a new friend! The commentators seem to agree with me. They show a shot of them laughing together at lunch, the other tributes looking on in confusion. Then they give us an _extra special_ treat. A short clip of Katniss and Peeta on the roof of the Training Center. What are they doing on the roof? At night? Alone! They are standing close together, looking at the flowers in a rooftop garden and having a whispered conversation. What are they talking about? All I can hear is a strange tinkling sound and I can't read their lips because they are so close together and in the shadows. Peeta wraps his jacket around her shoulders, protectively. She smiles and lets him button it up for her. The commentators are speculating that they are friends and isn't it nice that they have this time away from training to enjoy themselves. No! It isn't nice.

When the program ends I thank Madge for inviting me over. Despite the fact that Peeta seems to be making a nuisance of himself, I am happy to have been able to actually see Katniss today. To know she is all right. For now. Madge packs up the uneaten snacks and insists I take them home. I try to refuse, but she tells me they will be thrown out if I don't. Does she know that is the only way I could have been convinced to take food without a trade? That I couldn't bear the thought of good food being thrown away. Wasted.

Too bad the lemonade pitcher went back in the refrigerator. The kids would have loved the lemonade. Especially Posy. But they will be amazed at the grapes, cheese and crackers and sandwiches tomorrow. I can't believe Madge didn't make our snack ridiculously large on purpose. She can't have thought we would eat it all, although I did my best.

As I walk home I find myself thinking I may have been too hard on Madge in the past. It was incredibly thoughtful of her to invite me over tonight. To know how much it would mean to me to be able to see Katniss. To feed me and make it seem like we were sharing a snack, when in reality she only nibbled on a few crackers and grapes. To make it impossible for me to refuse taking the extra food home to my family, without feeling like I owed her for it. She is quite the diplomat. To be there, simply as a friend. She hadn't had any romantic intentions tonight. Katniss is the only other girl who sees me as a friend, instead of as some romantic hero. The dangerous hunter boy from the Seam. And, honestly, it is a relief to know she isn't one of the clueless girls who thinks Katniss' absence is an opportunity to make a move on me. If she even has any desire to. It was nice to spend this night with her. Maybe we really are friends, now.

My dreams tonight take a disturbing twist as Katniss disappears instead of jumping into my arms. I am desperately looking for her and I finally spot her running through the woods- holding hands with Peeta! They are suddenly caught in a net. Is it one of my snares? Then out of nowhere a hovercraft appears, reaches down with a claw and snatches them up into its belly. And I can only watch helplessly as my Catnip is taken away from me.

Saturday

I wake suddenly, twisted in my sweat-drenched sheets. How had that wonderful dream of Katniss transformed into a nightmare? Because of Peeta? Because of the Capitol? Because of both? My Catnip. Then a nagging thought; now I have two heartbreaking threats. I can lose her to death. Or, I can lose her to the love of another.

I get up quickly and head to the woods to clear my head. I need to think. Or, I need to keep myself too busy to think. And I can't even decide which would be better. I know that today Katniss has her private session with the Gamemakers. This will be her chance to impress them. Tonight we will get to see how she did. A good score will be essential for her to get a sponsor. To show that she has real potential and that she isn't only Cinna's creation, "Girl on Fire". Because Katniss truly is full of passion and fire- even if I am the only one she shares that part of herself with. She _is_ the Girl on Fire. And my love for her begins to burn deep.

The morning passes in a blur and I meet Rory at Prim's after school as has become our routine. We return to the woods, check the snare lines, gather some roots and I work on teaching Rory to shoot with Katniss' small, old bow. I have to wonder if Katniss and I were ever this bad. Fortunately, he seems to have a knack with the snares. I don't have to worry about him hurting himself if I ever need to send him to check the lines after I start work in the mines.

When we finish we stash the weapons in the hollowed-out log and head to the Hob to complete our trades and into town to see the baker. When we get home I give my mom several extra animals to smoke. I'm feeling optimistic about the progress we have made so far. We are going to be all right until Katniss gets home.

Tonight we are going to feast on the leftovers from last night's "snack" before we watch the Mandatory Viewing of the training scores. I noticed when I unpacked the basket that Madge had tucked in a jug of the lemonade without me noticing. Posy has never tasted lemonade before and I'm excited to see her reaction. I wonder if Madge has any idea how much her little snack means to me.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Author's Note**

**Yeah! Training Scores are in the next chapter! We all know what Gale's reaction to those are going to be, don't we?**

**Shoutout to all of my awesome reviewers: ****JessPuggy, WalkingInTheValleyOfShadow, Kerinh22, and nikolette for reviewing the last chapter.**

**And **_**special**_** thanks to MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, ParanormalAngel, Aninha Flavia, jennibrolawrence19, Ellenka, and greenrose15 for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are awesome!**

**So, a little Gadge moment going on for you ****jennibrolawrence19**. **I hope you enjoy it!**

**Please review! Your feedback is what makes it all worthwhile!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Saturday night**

Just before the time of the mandatory viewing, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen arrive at our house for dinner. Although it is a mandatory viewing, we are not required to watch it in the square this time. Tonight's broadcast will last only two hours, giving them about five minutes to discuss each tribute's score, so at least the little ones won't be up too late tonight.

Mom has rabbit stew simmering on the stove to go with the leftovers from last night's "snack". Prim brings a fresh loaf of bread to share, and I wish she hadn't. Mr. Mellark intended that bread for Prim, but I can hardly complain about where she got their contribution to our meal.

Posy is excited that we are having a party, complete with fancy little sandwiches (Mom cut the leftover sandwiches into little triangles) and a platter of grapes, cheese and crackers. She is playing the little hostess, walking about offering this then that. I realize she is playing tea party, her favorite little girl game. My baby sister. What a sweet child. The thought of her being reaped makes me-.

Enough. I serve myself a bowl of stew, making sure to get mostly broth, since I ate so well yesterday. Rory and Vick are both in the midst of growth spurts and need the extra calories more than I do at the moment. I remember the last few years before our father died being hungry all the time, despite being relatively well-fed. We Hawthornes grow them big, genetics somehow winning out over circumstances. Vick is ten. Rory is twelve. I grew nine inches the year between my twelfth and thirteenth birthdays. By fourteen I was six feet tall. Growth like that demands a lot of calories. We are fortunate that my hunting provides us with enough fresh meat to prevent the true malnourishment so many of our neighbors face.

I find myself smiling at my brothers as they wolf down tonight's extra generous dinner with grins on their faces, too happy to even nitpick at each other about who got the larger slice of Prim's bread. Posy is busy delicately arranging her sandwich triangles, grapes and crackers in an attractive display on her plate. She ate all of her cheese first. I feel protective, watching them.

We are surprisingly upbeat. I suppose because we all expect Katniss to get a good score and she isn't in any immediate danger tonight. Even so, it is strange for her to be missing from one of our little get-togethers. I am saving the lemonade to toast to Katniss' score, which I am confident will be a good one.

The TV comes suddenly to life, playing Panem's anthem and displaying the Capitol's seal. We gather around to watch as Caesar Flickerman introduces tonight's program. He explains the scoring, the purpose of which is not to predict a winner, but to give the audience (especially the betting audience) an idea of each tribute's potential in the arena. The scores can range from a one, which is irredeemably bad, to a twelve, which is unattainably high.

I sit on a chair and Vick settles on the floor at my feet, pulling out a notebook. Vick is the only one in our family who truly excels in school. He is fascinated with numbers and science, clearly seeing the world in a slightly different way than the rest of us. I often wonder if there is any way I can help him to find a future other than in the mines. It seems such a waste for him to spend his mind and his life doing the mindless, backbreaking work of a miner. Mine. Mind. My mind is mine even in a mine. Where do these random thoughts come from? I, too, clearly see the world in a slightly different way. Hawthornes.

I see he has made a chart with all of the tributes' names and districts and he is eagerly scratching down notes as we are shown a few clips from training. He is trying to notice which weapons they are using and who they are training with, trying to figure out who will ally in the arena. I will help him with this after the program. Since I watched the training special with Madge, I have a lot of information to contribute.

Caesar is done with the introduction and they display the photo of the male tribute from District One, with a score of nine flashing below it. They continue, taking just a few minutes to comment on each tribute. Most of the scores are no big surprise. The Careers all score between eight and ten. The average score is a five. The little girl from Eleven scores a surprising seven, earning a little cheer from little Prim. Her district partner earns an impressive ten. We sit quietly as they prepare to give District Twelve's scores, which are usually in the lower range.

Peeta's picture comes up and the number eight flashes below his name. Peeta Mellark got an _eight?_ Soft-little-townie-baker-boy got an _**eight?**_ That is a Career's number. The announcers are stunned. They tell us that the last tribute from Twelve to get an eight was our last Victor, Haymitch Abernathy. Twenty-four years ago. They seem excited that maybe District Twelve might actually be in contention for the crown this year. How did _he_ manage to get an eight?

I had been hoping that Katniss would be able to pull something in the eight range. But if Peeta Mellark managed to pull an eight, then Katniss should easily be able to better that.

The announcers move on, "Well, let's see what our final tribute scored. Katniss Everdeen, District Twelve."

Katniss' picture comes up and we hold our collective breath. "Eleven" flashes under her picture. I jump to my feet in excitement as we all cheer. Eleven! She got an _**eleven!**_

I grab Posy and spin her around and around as she shrieks with laughter. "Eleven! Eleven! Eleven!" I chant to her.

"Did Katniss win?" she asks between shrieks and giggles.

I am suddenly deflated a bit. "No, Posy. Not yet. But, Katniss got an eleven, which means she will have lots of people who will help her to win." I spin her around some more until my mother insists I stop. When I put Posy on the floor she staggers around, a tipsy little tea partier. Up past her bedtime.

I go to the kitchen and pull out the lemonade, pouring a cup for everyone. We toast to Katniss. I watch Posy as she tries the lemonade.

She makes a funny face at the tartness, puckering her lips. She swirls it around in her cup. Sticks her finger in it. Licks her finger with a thoughtful look on her delicate face. Finally, she drains her cup with a satisfied smile, and curls up like a kitten next to Mom on the couch.

The announcers are still abuzz about Katniss' score. No one from Twelve has ever scored higher than an eight. And, elevens are rare for _any_ district. Most years the high score is a single ten. There have been exactly nine elevens awarded in the history of the games. 9-11s in seventy-four years. All to Careers.

I am so relieved. Katniss will definitely have sponsors. Lots of sponsors. She can win this!

Mrs. Everdeen and Prim leave as my mother puts Posy to bed. Rory, Vick and I sit around the table discussing the scores and finishing off the rest of Madge's snack. It won't be any good tomorrow, anyway.

Vick is focused intently on his notebook, busily adding details I remember from last night. The boy from One was handy with a spear. The boy from Two looks lethal with a sword. The girl from Two may be the most deadly of them all; she spent a lot of time trying to intimidate people at the knife throwing station.

Rory is as excited as I am about Katniss' score. "An eleven! She is sure to win with a score like that," he exclaims as he reaches for something to eat.

"Well, there's still some room for improvement there," I deadpan.

"Yeah, _right_ Gale. They have _never_ given a twelve. And they only give an eleven once every ten years or so," he comes back.

Vick is leaning over his notebook with a serious look on his face, his mouth resting on his curled up fists.

"So Vick, what do you think?" I ask, trying to draw him out of his book and into the conversation.

He reaches out to take a handful of grapes, thinking over my question seriously. When he finishes he says, "I wish she had gotten a nine."

Rory and I laugh at our serious younger brother. "A nine? Why a nine?" I ask.

"Well," he begins slowly, "nine still beats Peeta. A nine is still the highest ever score for our district. A nine is high enough to attract sponsors." He stops and looks at me seriously. All of these things are true.

Rory jumps in, "But she got an ELEVEN, Vick! That is totally cool. _No one_ will be able to beat her."

With a sinking feeling I realize what Vick's point is even before he finishes.

"The Careers know she got an eleven, too, Rory. The Capitol might as well have painted a _target_ on her back. Who do you think they are going to take out first at the Cornucopia? Any random kid or the girl who outscored them all?_" _Vick disputes.

"If she gets her hands on a bow, they are all dead," Rory says flatly. True, too.

A bow. I told her to get her hands on a bow. If there is such a valuable weapon it will be at the center of the Cornucopia. She will have to go through the bloodbath to get it. And Vick is right; she will be target number one. Unarmed she doesn't stand a chance against the Careers. They band together and fight like a pack of wild dogs until they take out all of the other tributes before turning on each other.

All of my earlier elation at her score implodes. My heart constricts. Have I put her in even greater danger by telling her to get her hands on a bow? My fragile hope shatters at the thought. She has to come home. She has to win. Anything else is unthinkable.

**Sunday morning**

As dawn breaks through the tattered curtains I am roused from a dreamless sleep to face another day. Another day without Katniss. A Sunday without Katniss is unimaginable. Every Sunday for nearly four years, we have spent together in the woods.

I remember the day I first met her. It was a Sunday in October; nine months after our fathers were killed in the same mine explosion.

I came upon her unexpectedly, examining one of my twitch-up snares which held a rabbit; her fingers on the wire. Just a skinny little girl from the Seam; or so I thought.

"That's dangerous," I said from behind her.

She spun and jumped back several feet upon hearing my disapproving voice.

She looked scared. Angry. And -_lonely_.

"What's your name?" I asked, stepping forward and disengaging the rabbit.

"Katniss," she had mumbled.

"Well, Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?" I warned her.

"Katniss," she repeated louder this time. "And I wasn't stealing it. I just wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything."

I wasn't convinced she was telling the truth, seeing as she had a squirrel. "So where'd you get the squirrel?"

"I shot it," she said, pulling a small bow off of her shoulder.

"Can I see that?" I asked, amazed that this little girl had a bow. A real bow. Weapons are rarer than mercy from the Capitol.

"Just remember, stealing's punishable by death," she said in a sing-song as she handed it over.

I couldn't help but smile at her. I think it was six months before she was finally comfortable enough with me to return my smile.

We talked of hunting. She said she might be able to get me a bow if I had something to trade, which made me suspicious, until I found out all she wanted was knowledge. My knowledge. Clever little girl, this one.

I taught her about snares and fishing. She taught me about edible plants and eventually gave me one of her father's precious bows. We became a team, two fatherless children fighting against the hunger that perpetually threatened both of our families.

Partners, friends…more than that. When I hunt without her, I feel half blind. I need her at my back, giving us a perfect 360 degree view of the forest. Together we are perfect. Together we are more than the sum of our parts. And, her parts have become more…perfect… lately. When I gather and trade at the Hob I miss her constant company. I just miss her.

I wake Rory and do the unimaginable: spend a Sunday in the forest without Catnip.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Author's Note**

**Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: **starfirefan4ever, God1801, NerdyGirl4602, and OrangesandLemonade

**And **_**special**_** thanks to MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, ParanormalAngel, Aninha Flavia, Ellenka, and greenrose15 for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!**

**Timeline note:**

**Katniss mentions in THG that the prep day for the interviews is on Sunday. Counting backwards and forwards tells us that the Reaping and Day One of the Games are both on Tuesdays, one week apart.**

**And, it _is_ possible to grow nine inches in one year. One of my boys did at Rory's age :)**

**Love it? Hate it? Questions? Please leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sunday, Games minus two days

Katniss will spend all day today prepping for tomorrow's interviews. What does that even mean? What could they possibly do for an entire day to get ready for a three minute interview? After barely half a day in the Capitol, she had seemed like a stranger in the opening ceremonies last week. Will she still be my Catnip when she comes home? How different will she be after a week? After a month? After enduring the most hellish conditions a citizen of Panem could face? Any surviving citizen, that is.

As Rory and I wiggle under the fence, I know I have to get my focus back on hunting today. This is my last full day before the Games begin. Before the electricity is on most of the time for the next month. Before Katniss is fighting for her life. I have to make today count.

I set Rory up fishing before I head further into the woods with my bow to hunt. I can't afford to have Rory trailing after me today. He simply isn't quiet enough. One rabbit scared off today would be one too many.

I tell him to gather branches to make more arrows when he needs a break from fishing. It will give me something to work on and teach him and Vick on the Sundays we cannot hunt. We'll straighten the branches into shafts by careful heating over a fire. You can never have too many arrows, after all. Especially if we ever needed weapons for something other than feeding our family.

It would seem the odds are in my favor today. I take down a deer, in addition to several rabbits, squirrels and a raccoon. It is fortunate I have Rory here with me today. I send him back home with the first load of kills while I field dress the deer. When he returns I heave the deer over my shoulders, but he has to carry everything else. I can barely manage under the weight. We wait until after dark to return to the district. There is no discreet way to carry a deer through the streets. Although the Peacekeepers all know that I hunt, there is no need to be so blatant about it. I don't want to flaunt our good fortune in front of any of our neighbors, either. Most people in the Seam barely have enough food to keep them alive.

Normally, I would sell the deer at the Hob and get a premium price for it. This month, I know meat is more important for us than money. Fortunately, it's July, and not winter. I don't need to worry about having to buy coal for heating or boots and coats for anyone right now. And deer is the best quality protein I can provide for my growing brothers.

Although it is late, we immediately begin butchering the deer when we get home. We cannot afford to delay-not in this heat. Our mother and I will be very busy smoking, canning and drying the various cuts for the next few days. She went to the Hob to buy extra salt for the brine after Rory told her about the deer, so we soak the meet in the mixture she prepared before we got home.

When we are finally done with the butchering and all of the meat is soaking, I wash off quickly with the cold water from the bathroom faucet before falling, exhausted, into bed. Tomorrow night we will have hot water, I think faintly, before drifting off.

Monday

Interview Day, Games minus one day

I wake up after the sun is already up and drag myself out of bed. My shoulders and neck are sore from carrying the deer all the way home and butchering it well into the night. I wish I could stay in bed, but I know I need to clear the snare lines for the last time before the Games begin. The Games. What kind of place do we live that children are forced to play "Games" to the death? Child's play in Panem.

Tomorrow Katniss will be in the arena. Just a piece in their evil Games. A pawn or a Queen? Will she survive? Even if she does, how damaged will she be? Physically, the Capitol can fix nearly any injury a Victor has sustained. But mentally? Emotionally? Katniss was so damaged by her father's death and her mother's subsequent withdrawal that she is afraid to let herself get close to anyone. How will she deal with having caused other families similar pain? Becoming a killer? Because, if she comes home, that is how. By becoming a killer. Will she ever be able to face the baker again? I hope she doesn't end up having to kill his son herself.

Mom makes me a larger breakfast than I normally make for myself. She doesn't like when I don't eat what she thinks is reasonable for my size. She doesn't seem to realize I am used to being hungry, and I know I can handle it better than the others. I eat the whole breakfast without complaint though. I know she sees me as just another one of her kids, but I haven't considered myself a kid in years.

"Thanks, Mom. It was delicious. Why didn't you wake me earlier? I could have walked the kids to school for you."

"You needed the sleep, Gale. You were up most of the night with that deer and if Rory and Vick fighting over who was going to walk Prim to school didn't wake you, I wasn't going to disturb you."

"Fighting over Prim? I knew Rory had a bit of a crush, but Vick, too? Nevermind that," I shake my head. "You should have woken me. I need to clear the snares before they turn the fence on."

"They won't turn it on before sundown, most likely. You need to start taking better care of yourself, Gale. We can't afford for you to get sick or hurt because you are always giving your dinner to your brothers."

"Mom, we've been over this already. I eat off the land as I hunt. And they need the calories for growing- right now. I love you, Mom, but, you need to let me make these decisions for myself," I lean over to give her a kiss to ease the rebuke and she pulls me into a hug.

"I love you, too," she says quietly.

I clear the lines and dismantle all of the snares, as I do each summer before the Games. But this is not an ordinary Games and I cannot forget that. Not for a minute.

I have five squirrels, two rabbits and a groundhog this morning. The groundhog will go to Greasy Sae, since it tends to taste pretty dirty and is too gristly for most people to chew. Once it is in her stew, no one will question it. After dropping off the groundhog at the Hob I head into town and sell one of the rabbits to the butcher.

As I approach the bakery I can't help but wish I could pretend that Katniss and Peeta weren't going to be in the arena together tomorrow. But ignoring reality and pretending I live somewhere else just isn't me. I see in black and white. Real and unreal. Right and wrong. If I want to live somewhere different I need to do something about it. Whether that means running away to find a new place to live or joining in a rebellion to change Panem from within? Well, I don't know, yet.

I am slightly surprised when the baker buys all five squirrels. He has never bought more than two at a time before. Not even during past Games when he knew I wouldn't be by for a few weeks. We agree that he can pay me with bread each of the next four weeks. He gives me Prim's package and a loaf in exchange for one of my squirrels before I leave.

The interviews are tonight. This will be our last glance at Katniss before she is thrown into the arena tomorrow morning. And we will view it in the town square. In full view of the cameras and reporters from the Capitol. I am not required to be here, but her immediate family is, so we've come for them.

Since we have arrived early, I have time to seek out Madge before the programming begins. I want to thank her for the lemonade and tell her about Posy's reaction. I think she will enjoy hearing that.

I see her just coming out onto her porch, helping her mother, so I hurry over. She sees me and calls out a greeting, "Hey, Gale."

"Hey, Madge. Mrs. Undersee, it is nice to see you." I rarely see Madge's mom these days. She isn't well and just about the only time she makes a public appearance is for a mandatory viewing in the town square. I am shocked at how frail she looks.

She looks up at me and gives me a wan smile, "Thank you, Gale." She looks as if she might fade away in bright sunlight, like an old, faded photograph.

She appears to be leaning heavily on Madge and I feel as if I should offer to help her down the stairs, but I don't want to impose myself. I don't know her well enough to simply step forward and help, so I settle for stepping close enough to be able to render support if it becomes necessary.

Madge gives me an appreciative smile over her mother's head as I do. They take another step forward and, to my surprise, Mrs. Undersee reaches out for my arm, so I automatically steady her as we descend to the walkway. We cross over to the square and settle Mrs. Undersee into a chair at the edge of the crowd. She waves us off, thanking us.

As we walk I remember why I sought her out, "I wanted to thank you for the lemonade. You really shouldn't have included it, but the kids absolutely loved it. Especially Posy. So I wanted to thank you and let you know."

"You're welcome. I'm glad they enjoyed it," she accepts graciously and then smoothly changes the subject. "Can you believe she got an eleven? I think I nearly scared my mother to death when I started screaming about it last night," she laughs.

"It was incredible. I expected her to do well, but that eleven blew me away," I confide.

"I know! And, Peeta, with an eight? The commentators couldn't get over the fact that _District Twelve_ could produce two tributes who were capable of scoring so high. Even my father was shocked," Madge enthuses.

I'll bet he was shocked. Or worried what the Capitol will think about District Twelve producing a girl who is an expert with a bow. She is such a proficient it is as if she were born with a bow in her hand. A natural extension of her arm. I wonder what Peeta did to earn his eight?

When I don't comment Madge continues easily, "How do you think she will do tonight?"

I rub the back of my neck to ease some of the tension that has been building there. "I'm kind of worried. She's not much of a people person."

Madge laughs ruefully, "No, she isn't. But she was so cheerful and wavy at the opening ceremonies, I think she just might surprise us tonight."

Ugh, what I most definitely do not want is _another_ surprise from Katniss tonight. I want to see _my Catnip_, but I know it's a hopeless wish. She will be dressed up in some hideously overdone costume. Made-up and trotted out like some kind of a trained dog for the entertainment of the audience.

So, who will we see tonight? A sullen and hostile Katniss glaring at the people who are taking bets on how long she will live or some artificially cheerful version of the girl we know? I am double-minded. As much as I want to see the _real_ Katniss glaring at her tormentors, I know the sponsors will expect and prefer that luminescent creature from the opening ceremonies. And, as much as I hate to admit it, she should play to the sponsors tonight.

We have been walking about the edge of the square for several minutes in a comfortable silence before I finally reply. "I think she will be trying very hard to hide the loathing she feels for the freakish audience who feed on the blood of children," I say honestly.

Madge surprises me when she takes me arm and pulls me off behind a tree. "Gale," she whispers fiercely. "I totally agree with everything you said, but you must watch what you are saying in such a public place!" she says under her breath, looking about furtively.

I can't believe I just voiced such traitorous thoughts to the Mayor's daughter. In public. In the town square. The _public_ town square. Surrounded by a thousand people. And the cameras set up to record the reactions of the families to the interviews. I am not normally so careless.

I lean in close to her, "I'm so sorry. You're right. It _won't_ happen again."

She relaxes visibly and gives me a sad smile. The Mayor gives the five minute warning and tells everyone to find a seat.

"Do you need to sit with your mother?" I ask.

"No, my father will sit with her."

"Would you like to sit with us? We can sit in the second row. I really don't want to be front and center again tonight. I could use a friend to remind me that Katniss is doing this to return to us."

"I'd like that. Sitting with my mother during any part of the Games is difficult. Especially since I bring back painful memories for her."

I look at her in surprise as we work our way towards the front. "How could you possibly trigger anything but wonderful memories for your mother?" I wonder aloud.

She smiles that slightly shy smile that I am coming to recognize as how she reacts whenever I say anything complimentary towards her. "I look like my Aunt Maysilee. She was my mother's twin."

"I'm sorry. How did she die?" I ask as we sit down in the row behind the Everdeens and the screens light up.

Madge leans close and quietly tells me, "She was a tribute in the Second Quarter Quell. She was in an alliance with Haymitch until the final five when she was killed by mutts."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." I say seriously. I'm shocked. It hits me like a ton of bricks. How did I not know this about Madge? I feel guilty remembering how I treated her the morning of the reaping; telling her that she wouldn't be going to the Capitol. Because she only had five slips. Peeta had five. Prim only had one. How many had her aunt had? I feel about two inches tall as we silently watch Caesar welcoming us to the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games Interviews. Caesar Flickerman, Capitol freak: pure white skin, blue hair, blue lips and eyelids.

"The Games are hard on my mother," she says quietly. I reach over and give her hand a gentle squeeze and she puts her other hand over mine, squeezing back for a moment.

Our attention is diverted to the screens as the tributes make their way onto the huge outdoor stage constructed in front of the Training Center. Evening is falling in the Capitol, but the City Circle is bright as a summer day with all of the stage lighting.

The twenty-four tributes are lining up in an arc at the back of the stage. It isn't hard to spot Katniss; second from last between the towering giant from Eleven and the blond baker boy.

She is as alluring and beautiful as at the opening ceremonies, but she looks a little uncertain tonight. Not quite the immortal goddess in the flaming chariot. Her skin seems to be shimmering and someone has painted flame designs that curl up her bare arms. Her eyes look impossibly big and her red lips look, well, luscious. As if she had just eaten some sweet berries; and promising that they would be equally sweet to kiss. I realize that I am still holding Madge's hand and I guiltily pull it back.

I hear Posy and Prim in the seats in front of us gushing over her dress. Posy squeals that Katniss looks like a princess. Her dress is probably worth enough to feed the entire district for a year. It is completely covered in gems, and when she moves the dress seems to spark into tiny flames licking her curves. Is it my imagination or have her curves _matured_ in the week she has been away? It suddenly seems too warm here in the crowd. She is as radiant as the sun. And, I am burning. Am I blushing? I look around anxiously, relieved to see no one is paying any attention to me.

I squirm a little in my seat as Caesar introduces a girl named Glimmer from District One. It is clear what her angle is. _Sexy_. Mission accomplished. She tosses back her sleek blonde hair and the light catches on her see-through golden dress. Three minutes. I can ignore her for three minutes. She isn't as stunning as Katniss. No, not at all. And, Madge is prettier than Glimmer, too. But, to be perfectly honest, it is hard for a hormonal teenage boy to ignore such a blatant display of sheer female anatomy. And, it is _sheer_. See-through dress and all. I can hear my friends Thom and Jax whispering a few rows behind me. At least they aren't shoving each other around tonight.

I have no idea what Caesar and Glimmer talked about, but Caesar is now welcoming the boy from One. Marvel. He is confident and superficially charming. Typical for a Career.

Next up is Clove; the knife fiend from Two. I hope Katniss can steer clear of her.

The boy from Two is Cato. His angle is ruthless killing machine. Definitely the one to beat this year.

The next dozen or so run together in my mind, not making much of an impression one way or another.

The boy from Ten is crippled. _Crippled_. I want to be sick. Or scream. Or pick up a chair and _throw_ it at the screens. Madge seems to sense my mood shift. She puts her hand gently on my arm, as if to tell me to stay in my seat. The boy is quiet. Almost painfully shy. Caesar can barely get a response from him. It gets worse.

The little girl from Eleven, Rue, is dressed as a winged creature of some sort. A fairy or a wood sprite, maybe? She looks as if a strong wind would carry her away. She is answering one of Caesar's questions, "I'm very hard to catch. And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."

"I wouldn't in a million years." Caesar promises solemnly. I want to cry out in frustration. At Prim-

The boy from Eleven, Tresh, ignores Caesar's attempts at friendly banter, answering every question with a 'yes' or 'no' or giving no answer at all. Hostile and sullen. It works for a giant like Thresh. You don't need to be charming to attract sponsors if they think you can kill the whole pack single-handedly. Eat 'em, too. They can grow them big in Eleven- along with most of Panem's food.

Katniss is next! I sit up straighter as she glides across the stage, her dress reflecting the thousands of lights and accentuating her every curve with the tiny flames. Her fluid movements. Now, show them your spirit, Catnip! You're a fighter! Don't let them intimidate you. My hands are balled into tight fists in my lap.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you the most since you arrived here?" Caesar begins.

Katniss looks off into the crowd, as if the answer lies in the audience. She finally manages, "the lamb stew." I smile. Beam. Perfect answer! It can be read at so many levels. I read it clearly as the perfectly innocent put-down that it is.

Caesar laughs heartily and the audience joins in. "The one with the dried plums?" she nods. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful." He turns sideways "It doesn't show, does it?" the audience shouts and applauds in approval.

"Now, Katniss," Caesar says confidentially, "When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?"

"You mean _after_ I got over my fear of being burned alive?" she says with a small laugh.

This draws a huge, genuine laugh from the audience. Good job, Catnip! You can be yourself and _still_ win them over.

"Yes. Start then," Caesar leans in as if captivated. I, too, am captivated. Every male is. It is the effect she has.

"I thought Cinna was _brilliant_ and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe _I_ was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing _this_, either." She spreads out her skirt for the audience. "I mean _look at it!" _she says, reverently.

This draws a round of oohs and aahs from the audience. Then, suddenly, she spins in a circle, making the skirt flare out and seem to burst into flames.

"Oh, do that again!" Caesar encourages. She lifts her arms and spins around several times, engulfed in flames. Stopping suddenly, she clutches at Caesar's arm.

"Don't stop!" he pleads.

"I have to, I'm dizzy!" she giggles. Giggles? While talking fashion? Katniss talking fashion? Katniss spinning in circles? And giggling? _Giggling?_ Is she _drunk?_ Did Haymitch get her drunk to loosen her up? How in Panem did they manage to get her to _act_ like this?

"Don't worry, I've got you. Can't have you following in your mentor's footsteps," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The way she is acting puts me on edge. But, seeing Caesar wrap his arm around her makes me a little… crazy? It is probably a good thing I am _not_ in the Capitol crowd. Because, if I were, I would already be under arrest for jumping on the stage and attacking Caesar Flickerman. How dare he embrace her like that? I have never seen him touch a tribute in such a _familiar_ way. Yes, too damn familiar, I think, outraged.

The crowd hoots in amusement. The camera finds Haymitch. He waves and points them back to her. He looks sober. _Clean_ and sober. He never looks like that in Twelve. Hopefully this is an indication he is taking his responsibility to his tributes seriously. Okay. If he is sober then Katniss is probably not drunk.

"It's all right. She's safe with me. So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in there," he asks, leaning his head intimately towards her. Still holding her close. Too close.

She glances nervously off to her right, biting her lip, "Um…all I can say, is I think it was a first."

They show us the Gamemakers who are nodding and chuckling. I wonder what she did that would make them chuckle? And earn her that eleven. Must have been some pretty fancy shooting.

"You're killing us! Details. Details," he begs.

She calls out to the Gamemakers directly, "I'm not supposed to talk about it, right?"

One of them yells back, "She's not!"

"Thank you. Sorry. My lips are sealed," she slides her hand across her lips. Luscious lips. My emotions are being stretched one way then the other and back again.

"Let's go back then, to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping. And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?" he asks, seriously.

Katniss goes still and I am afraid she will refuse to answer. Talking about the Capitol food or her training score is one thing. Talking about Prim is totally different. Totally personal. Private. She answers seriously, "Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything." Snap. My emotions snap. And I grow cold. Coldly furious.

It is completely silent in the City Circle. Prim bursts into tears and I am surprised when Rory puts his arm around her shoulders. Rory and Prim? As if I don't have enough to worry about right now.

Caesar continues in a stage whisper, "What did she say to you? After the reaping?"

"She asked me to try really hard to win," Katniss answers, looking straight into the camera.

"And what did you say?" I see Katniss tense, as she does right before she nocks an arrow to make a kill.

"I swore I would," she says with steely determination. Fierce. There is the girl who earned an eleven in training. That's my girl. I try to telepathically gift her my cold fury.

"I bet you did," he gives her shoulders another squeeze and the timer goes off. "Sorry, we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve." There is thunderous applause from the audience as she makes her way back to her seat amidst the flickering flames of her dress.

Peeta has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand from the moment he opens his mouth. He chats easily with Caesar as if being interviewed on national television is an everyday occurrence. He plays up the baker's son thing, comparing all of the tributes to their district bread. Then he goes on to tell a funny anecdote about the perils of the Capitol's showers. "Tell me, do I still smell like roses?" he quips.

He and Caesar go back and forth, sniffing each other, commenting on the showers, practically bringing down the house. Peeta could take over Caesar's job; he is such a natural in front of the crowd. They love him. I am grudgingly impressed. I never would have pegged him as such a crowd-pleaser. He is good. Yes, that's it. He is good and will remain good.

Finally, Caesar asks his first question, if Peeta has a girlfriend back home. Peeta hesitates, and then gives an unconvincing shake of his head.

"Handsome lad like you? There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar pushes.

Peeta sighs. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." No. He isn't. He wouldn't! She doesn't need this kind of distraction the night before the arena!

The crowd simpers in sympathy. Practically oozing.

"She have another fellow?" Caesar asks sympathetically. YES! _ME!_

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," Peeta lies. The hell you don't know. Who knew he was such a good liar? He knows about me. He even called me her protector!

"So, here's what you do. You win. You go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar says encouragingly.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning…won't help in my case." Don't worry. You aren't going to win. She is going to _kill_ you.

"Whyever not?" Caesar seems genuinely puzzled. What girl in their right mind would turn down a Hunger Games Victor, he must wonder? Any girl who doesn't want to marry a _killer_ just because he is filthy rich, Caesar!

Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out "Because..because she came here with me." The crowd is in anguish. Physical and emotional pain. And, I am, too.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Author's Note**

**_Special_**** thanks to Ellenka, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, ParanormalAngel, Aninha Flavia, ****Animic, God1801, DirtyAngelToes****, and greenrose15 for reviewing multiple chapters of this story! Your feedback and support means so much to me!**

**I try to answer each reviewer personally, but if you are not logged in or have PMs blocked I can't. Kerinh22, you have your PMs blocked, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your thoughtful reviews!**

**Sorry to leave you with a bit of a cliffhanger here, but I am following Suzanne Collin's chapters, so blame her. **** Oh, and I forgot to mention, I obviously am not Suzanne Collins and can only dream of creating a world as fascinating as she did. I am merely playing in her sandbox.**

**Please let me know what you think by reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The cameras hold on Peeta's downcast face for a moment before they process what he meant and switch to a close-up of Katniss' shocked face. Judging by her expression, her mouth partially open in surprise, she didn't see this coming. Predictable- Katniss is completely clueless when it comes to boys. I could have told her that Peeta had a crush on her before they even left. Only she could have spent a week with him and not seen it. Speaking of which, how could she have not noticed how I felt over the last six months? She is so innocent and clueless when it comes to the effect she can have.

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," Caesar says with what seems like genuine pain in his voice. The crowd in the Capitol is murmuring in agreement and a few give agonized cries. But, this is nothing compared to the outcry in Twelve, where I can hear some people behind me whimpering and sobbing. Katniss and Peeta are real people to us. They are friends. They are family. And, at least one of them is as good as dead.

"It's not good," Peeta agrees, his eyes focused intently on the floor. Then, you should have kept your mouth shut, Mellark, I fume.

Mr. Mellark has a sad smile on his face, but he looks unsurprised. I can't see Prim or Mrs. Everdeen's faces since I am behind them.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," Caesar commiserates. "She didn't know?" All of the boys do. Fall for her. And, no, she didn't know. Until dummy opened his big mouth!

Peeta shakes his head. "Not until now."

The screen is now split, showing a close-up of each of them. Katniss has an unmistakable blush on her cheeks, but she is looking down, trying to disappear.

"Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" Caesar asks the audience. He wouldn't do that to her, would he? The Capitol crowd is screaming for her to return. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours." Not mine. Mine is with Katniss. It is hers.

The roar of the crowd is deafening. Peeta has absolutely wiped the rest of the tributes off of the map with his declaration of love for her. When the audience finally settles down, he chokes out a quiet "Thank you" and returns to his seat next to Katniss. They don't acknowledge each other. As they stand for the anthem Katniss has to lift her head, so I can finally get a good look at her face. What is she thinking? What does the blush signify? Is she flattered? Confused? Embarrassed? Angry? Ah, _all_ of the above, I see.

The tributes file off of the stage after the anthem ends and the commentators try to recap the interviews, but they are fascinated by Peeta's unprecedented declaration. I hear the term "star-crossed lovers of District Twelve" for the first time. They are _not_ lovers, star-crossed or otherwise!

I am angry. Jealous. Why am I jealous? She didn't say she loved him, after all. I already knew he had a crush on her. Is it because this might give him an advantage over her in the arena? Make her more likely to trust him? Or, because the selfish kid burdened her with such information the night before they will be thrown into the arena? Or is it simpler? Am I jealous because he declared first? He will always be her first now! And, I might never get the chance? Even if I get the chance, will we always have the shadow of this dead, lovestruck baker boy haunting us?

We have been dismissed and yet I sit here, unable to move. Tonight might be the last night of her life. Tomorrow her last sunrise. I hear my mother shush Posy who is chirping she needs a red, glittery princess dress. She tells me they will see me at home as she shepherds them all off, and I am left sitting here in a rapidly emptying public square. My private square. Lost in my private thoughts. With my private love. Undeclared. Unspoken.

Oh, how I wish the electricity was off. I wish I could run into the woods and never return. But, I can't. Even if the electricity were off, I could never leave my family. I will never be able to leave this place. I am trapped. By the Capitol. By the Games. By the Peacekeepers. By the fence. By my responsibilities. By my love for my family.

I finally notice that Madge is sitting silently beside me, staring up at the stars; the few stars that are actually visible from the bright town square. The best place to view the stars is from the rise in the woods. Even the Meadow and the slag heap have much better views than here where there is too much ambient light. We are alone in the square, except for a few lingering Peacekeepers.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," I say as I get to my feet.

She laughs lightly, smiling at me. "You know my house is only a quarter mile across the square. I'll be in full view of the Peacekeepers until I get inside. You really don't have to walk me home," she says as we start off across the square towards her house.

She may be the Mayor's daughter, but I don't trust Peacekeepers at all. Not even to see she makes it safely across the square. "Well then, I guess you don't have to worry about me making any inappropriate advances when we get to your door."

Her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth parts slightly. Am I flirting with Madge? No, I am just teasing her like a friend. It is what friends do. Tease each other and watch out for each other. Walking her home is barely half a mile out of my way and it is dark outside. No one as pretty as Madge should be out alone at night. I find myself scowling.

"You shouldn't worry about what Peeta said," she breaks into my thoughts.

"He proclaimed his love for her on national television! The night before the arena!" I blurt out.  
>"Yes, but she didn't say she loved him. She looked so shocked. And you knew how he felt already, didn't you? I mean, he stares at her all the time. Well, quite often. It won't change how Katniss feels when she gets back."<p>

"I guess I am just worried about how it will affect her in the arena," I admit.

"You're worried she won't be able to kill him, now? Or kill anybody?"

"I'm not sure she could have even before tonight. Him, I mean. But, I am confident she will be able to kill to defend herself. She might even be able to take out fierce opponents like the Careers and the boy from Eleven without provocation. But she won't be able to kill the weak, like little Rue and the crippled boy from Ten. And I don't think she will be able to kill _him_, either. Especially after tonight. She will probably feel obligated to ally with him. Protect him." I have a sudden leap of thought. "That is why he did it."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"He did it to manipulate her into allying with him. He can only be a hindrance to her survival. He is too soft, having grown up in town. Too noisy. Too risky. She wouldn't have willingly taken him on. Now, she is going to have to feed him and protect him if he gets his way."

Madge scowls at me, probably not liking my condemnation of Townies. "Peeta certainly doesn't have her survival skills, but he is strong. And he is one of the smartest people I know."

I roll my eyes.

She continues, "He is also one of the sweetest. He has a pure heart. I can't see him using his feelings to try and manipulate her. Maybe he truly does love her and he figures this is his last chance to ever tell her how he feels," she defends him passionately.

"He doesn't even _know_ her, Madge," I argue, thinking of last chances. Missed chances.

"We don't know that. I think he has had a crush on her for years! And, they have been together for the past week."

"You don't fall in love in a week," I declare, dismissing her romantic drivel. "Can you see this 'sweetest person you know' killing someone?" I challenge her.

"Maybe, if he is given no choice. Not her, though. But, there is no denying the odds are in her favor. The likelihood of it coming down to the two tributes from Twelve is not very probable," she says sadly. "I think he is too gentle. And too kind to survive in the arena for very long."

"Would you listen to us? " I ask, disgusted. "Here we are calmly discussing the probable death of our schoolmates. Actually rooting for Peeta to die? He _is_ a good kid. He doesn't deserve to die," I throw my head back, looking towards the sky. A sky with no stars. The Capitol blocks out everything good.

She steps closer, wrapping her hands around my arm, stroking it soothingly. "I know," she chokes out fiercely.

We walk the rest of the way in silence. I open the gate for her, standing aside for her to walk through and closing it after she does. "Goodnight, Madge," I say sadly.

She turns towards me, "Thanks for walking me home. Try and get some sleep tonight."

I nod at her, but know I will not be sleeping this night. There is no possible way I could, knowing what tomorrow could bring. I watch her walk up the path to the porch, climb the steps and open the front door. She gives me a little wave before disappearing inside.

I turn around and stride purposefully towards home, planning what I will do tonight, since I know trying to sleep is pointless.

When I get home, I set about kindling a fire in the backyard smoker. When I have it started, I go into the root cellar and retrieve the meat that has been soaking and arrange it on the grates in the smoker. The meat will take twenty-four to thirty-six hours to smoke and it needs to be attended every few hours, so that will give me something constructive to do as I contemplate what tomorrow may bring.

What will the arena be like? Forest, desert, swamp, frozen wasteland? One year it was a giant shopping mall with mutation mannequins and a poisonous food court. It could be anything the Gamemakers can dream up. Please, let it be a forest. That would be a huge advantage for us, and we need every edge possible. I mean, Katniss does.

Is she able to sleep tonight? Tonight will be her last night, safe and comfortable in a bed. Tomorrow night she will be in the arena, hiding from mutts and bloodthirsty tributes. Or, hunting herself.

I find myself restlessly pacing the width of the backyard over and over again, wearing a path in the sparse, dry grass. Every four hours or so I rotate the meat and add wood to the fire to keep it at the right temperature.

With so much time to think tonight I find myself mulling over my new friendship with Madge. It causes me to reevaluate some of my long held beliefs regarding the residents of District Twelve.

First among those beliefs is the nature of the rigid divide between the Seam and the Townies. That the things that separate us go beyond the poverty and physical appearance. I have always believed that the Townies were unconcerned about the welfare of the people of the Seam. That they considered us as somehow less human. Less than them, at least. But in the few hours I have spent with Madge in the past week, I have come to realize that at least _some _of the Townies care. Mr. Mellark cares. Madge definitely cares. She has somehow managed to befriend me and provide some extra food for my family along the way. I still don't quite know how she manages to make me feel as if it is okay to take food and not owe her for it.

Second are my thoughts on the reaping. Because most of the kids in the Seam take out tesserae between the ages of twelve and eighteen the odds for most of us are roughly equivalent. Townie kids don't often take out tesserae and so I have always thought they were safe. That they were concerned for themselves when they weren't in any real danger compared to the kids in the Seam always seemed so self-centered to me. I never believed they were in any real danger, given the odds. The odds are _ever _in _their_ favor. But, Peeta was chosen with only five slips. And, he is a merchant's son. There is no possible way the son of the district baker had ever taken out tesserae. Prim only had one slip. Madge's Townie aunt was reaped.

I conclude I have felt unfairly oppressed. Always assuming I would be reaped. My friends would be reaped. Never worrying over the merchant kids. Not even considering they, too, were justified to be worrying about themselves and their friends. Although tributes more often than not come from the Seam, none of my friends have ever been reaped. No one in my family has ever been reaped. If I want to be honest, I can't count Katniss since she volunteered for her sister who only had a single slip. More tributes come from the Seam, it is true, but we have a larger population than the Town, as well. I find it uncomfortable to admit to myself that I have been prejudiced against them. That the divide between us comes as much from our side as it does from theirs. Just the way the Capitol wants it. We've all been played.

We would be so much stronger if we worked together. Why do we divide ourselves? Because, the Capitol designs every aspect of our lives to make it impossible to work together against them.

By the time the sun breaks over the horizon, I have considered hundreds of scenarios about what the next few weeks will bring. What will Katniss face this day? Will she be killed? Will she become a killer? Is she sick with apprehension this morning as I am? She must be. I hope she knows I will always be here for her family. And for her.

Vick comes out to take over the fire. Boy, I need a break. My eyes are stinging and watering. All that smoke! Yes, it must be from all of the smoke.

Mom offers me breakfast, but food is the last thing I can stomach this morning. I look at the clock. It is eight. The Games start at ten Capitol time. That is noon in District Twelve, so we have four hours to wait. Katniss has four more hours. To wait. To live.

I splash cold water on my face. Shave. Wash up. Change into clean clothes. Check on Vick and the fire. Play with Posy in the backyard to get her out from under Mom's feet for a while. She is so excited to have everyone home today; or nearly everyone. Rory is at Prim's this morning. No school and no work for the opening day of the Hunger Games.

Exactly one week ago Katniss and I were sitting on our rock, eating our bread and cheese. Talking about running away. It seems a lifetime ago. It _was_ a lifetime ago. When we both _had_ lifetimes. Time.

At eleven, I walk over to the Everdeen's, surprised to find Prim and Rory arguing in the front yard. Prim's face is red and her hands are balled up into little fists at her side.

I hear Rory, "That doesn't make any sense! She is _protecting_ you, Prim."

"No, she _isn't!_" Prim denies hotly, in full little-girl fury. I almost back away.

I step through the gate, "What's wrong?" I ask calmly, hoping to diffuse the situation. Today is going to be hard enough without Prim, who is normally so sweet and even tempered, going off the rails before the Games even begin. I glare at Rory.

He gives me an exasperated look, "Prim is _mad at Katniss_ for volunteering."

"Prim?" I ask gently.

"She left me all alone with our mother! She promised me she would never leave me," Prim cries.

I'm not sure I am equipped to deal with an irrational twelve-year-old girl this morning, but I see I don't have any choice. "Rory is right. You know he is, Prim. Katniss' only thought at the reaping was to protect you. That is all she cares about. Protecting you," I say in my gentlest voice; the one I use to soothe Posy when she has a nightmare.

"No! I need her _here_! Mom needs her _here_. Mom is going to go away again! And not come back. I wish she hadn't volunteered! She should have let me go! It should be me," Prim sinks to the ground, dissolving into hopeless sobbing.

Rory drops to his knees, gathering Prim into his arms and patting her awkwardly on the back. He looks up at me with a pleading expression. What does he expect _me_ to do? I tried and now she's deteriorated from angry ranting to hysterical sobbing. So much for my legendary ability to charm girls.

I rub my hands over my face, thinking. I have to reassure Prim. What would Katniss do if she were here? Well, this wouldn't be happening if Katniss were here. "Prim, we are going to be all right. _All_ of us. You know Katniss has a real chance of winning this. She knows that she has a real chance, a much better chance than you. If she hadn't volunteered for you, _she_ would never have recovered. Losing you would have taken away her reason for living. You need to be strong for her. For your mother. Lean on us. We will get through this together. I promise."

Prim looks up at me, "What if she doesn't come home, Gale? How could I live with myself?" she asks, barely audible.

I can't promise her that Katniss will come home. Even if I did, it wouldn't help. What an awful mess. I clear my throat, which is suddenly feeling clogged. "We'll get through it together. Whatever happens, this is not your fault. Remember that. Where's your mom?"

"On Katniss' bed," Prim sniffs, recovering a bit of her composure.

On Katniss' bed instead of being brave for Prim. _Typical_. "You go with Rory. I'll get her and we'll be there before noon. Rory, check on Vick when you get home. The fire probably needs more wood. Green wood. Not too much. Just enough to keep it hot and smoking."

Rory pulls Prim to her feet, "Will do," he says smartly as they head off down the cinder road.

I brace myself before entering the house. This is exactly what Katniss feared the most when she left. Not her own death. But that her mother would check out, leaving Prim alone. She trusted me to take care of her family. Because she knew she couldn't trust her mother.

Walking into the bedroom I am relieved to see Mrs. Everdeen is dressed and lying on top of the bedcovers, hugging a pillow. She isn't asleep. Also good. "Mrs. Everdeen?" I say, hopefully. "It's time to go. Prim already went ahead with Rory."

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispers.

She is responsive. A very good sign. I sit on the bed next to her, "We'll get through this together. I will make sure you have enough food. If you need help around the house, whatever you need, you just have to let me know. But, you have to be strong. For Prim."

"I can't lose Katniss. She is all I have left of him," she whispers brokenly.

"You have_ two_ daughters. Prim is here and she needs you to be strong. Now. Here." I remind her.

She looks up at me, scared. "Katniss is the _strong_ one. She has so much of her father in her. Katniss is her father's daughter. Prim is…Prim is like me."

I help her into a sitting position. "Then, we will keep each other strong. Katniss is a survivor. We have to trust in her."

She nods her head and stands up as if she's made a decision. "I'm ready," she says shakily.

As we head out the door, I am relieved. That could have gone much worse. I think today will be the hardest day. Until the last day.

We arrive at our house at a quarter 'til noon. It is 9:45 in Capitol. Fifteen minutes until launch time. Katniss must already be in the catacombs beneath the arena. The stockyard, we call it in the districts; the place where animals wait for the slaughter. Their slaughter. Like lambs to the slaughter. What is she doing right now? What is she thinking?

My chest is tight. The nervousness I have felt for the last week is threatening to swell into terror. Katniss could be dead in a matter of… _minutes! _And_, _I can do nothing. I pace around our small living room like a caged tiger as noon approaches. Everyone else is sitting quietly before the dark TV. Like lambs watching the slaughter.

My mom, Mrs. Everdeen, Prim and Rory fill up the couch. Posy plays with her doll at their feet. Vick sits nervously fiddling with his notebook on the floor in front of our father's chair, where I will spend most of the Games.

The TV comes to life, the cheery voices of the announcers that follow the anthem are a jarring contrast to our anguished silence. I carefully take my seat as they inform us that all of the tributes are in their Launch Rooms. It is therefore time to unveil the Arena of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. They keep it a closely guarded secret until there is no possible way the tributes can hear any details before the launch.

We suddenly seem to be flying over a huge grain field of some kind. I don't see any trees; just miles and miles of waving grain. I close my eyes briefly, my mouth in a hard line. When I open them again we are pulling up and I see water. Soon I can see it is a lake. As the hovercraft rises I can see the huge, gold Cornucopia gleaming in the morning sun on a large area of packed earth. Seeing the Cornucopia somehow makes the reality of what is about to happen piercingly clear. Then I see them. The trees. A whole forest of pine trees surrounds half of the arena on the opposite side of the Cornucopia from the grain field. I can suddenly breathe again at the sight of the trees. Tall, beautiful, green trees. A great place for her to hide. Our kind of place. To hunt. To survive. She will be in her element. Our element. Without me. If only she doesn't have a millstone around her neck. A millstone named Peeta Mellark.

Suddenly, the camera swings back to the Cornucopia. I glance at the clock. Noon. The tributes are rising out of the ground in a circle surrounding the Cornucopia. Blood rushes in my ears. I hear my heart pounding. The camera sweeps across the faces of the children who are about to face their mortality at the hands of other children. An arena of death. Full of evil surprises. Evil.

My breath catches as I get a glimpse of Katniss. Madge's golden pin glints in the harsh sunlight as Katniss squints to adjust to the bright arena from the dark catacombs below. I barely have time to process the fact that Madge must have given it to her when she went to say goodbye as I try and take in every detail of the launch.

Suddenly, the well-known voice of the legendary Hunger Games announcer, Claudius Templesmith, calls out, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note

_Special_ thanks to Ellenka, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, ParanormalAngel, Aninha Flavia, Animic, God1801, DirtyAngelToes, JessPuggyand greenrose15 for reviewing multiple chapters of this story! You have no idea how much it means to me for you to take the time to continually let me know what you think!

And to the new reviewers for the last chapter: Aella Leto, xxAlizza and Ccmeu, welcome and I hope you enjoy this newest chapter.

**And finally! Let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin! (Well, in the**_** next**_** chapter, anyway.)**

**Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11 Let the Jealousy Games begin!

Chapter 11

Let the **Jealousy Games** Begin!

Tuesday, Games Day 1

Sixty seconds. They have sixty seconds to get their bearings before the gong sounds. If they step off early they will be blown to pieces by the mines under their plates. The announcers tell us they are all positioned forty yards from the Cornucopia. Katniss is facing the mouth, where the most valuable equipment and weapons are stacked.

Something catches her eye. I see it, too. A bow in the Cornucopia. It is surely a trap set especially for her. _No, Katniss! Forget what I said about the bow! Just get the hell out of there!_ She looks as if she is positioned to run towards the Cornucopia, but then she is distracted by something. The camera cuts to Peeta emphatically shaking his head. And back to Katniss, who seems confused.

GONG!

_Run, Katniss!_ She hesitates, undecided. Then she lunges forward, scooping up a sheet of plastic and a loaf of bread that are within easy reach. Then she runs _towards_ the Cornucopia. _NO!_ Halfway there she stops, grabbing a large orange backpack. The boy from District 9 fights her for it. The girl from Two, Clove, throws a knife at the boy's back. He coughs blood into Katniss' face before he falls to the ground. The first death of the bloodbath. Katniss staggers back, splattered in blood. Clove is readying her next knife. We are all screaming at Katniss to run, urging her to run, even though we know she cannot hear us. It is simply impossible to sit quietly while someone you love is about to die in front of you. "RUN! _RUN!"_

Katniss sees the girl readying to throw, slings the pack over her shoulder and sprints away towards the woods. We hold our collective breath as Clove releases her knife. Is she really going to die one minute in? Time seems to slow as the knife spins through the air towards Katniss' back. Katniss must have a second sense, as she hikes the pack up to protect her head just seconds before the knife buries itself deep.

The scene changes to another pair of tributes, wrestling on the ground. It takes us a few seconds to realize that Katniss is unhurt and that is why they cut away. I want to scream when they show her again as she stops to turn back towards the Cornucopia, scanning the scene anxiously. _Please! Do not go back!_ What is she doing? Peeta! Is she waiting for him? "Get out of there!" I yell. Almost as if she hears me, she turns and runs off into the woods.

Back to the Bloodbath we go. A dozen tributes are still fighting, while several already lie dead around the Cornucopia. They cut back to the pair of tributes who were wrestling a few minutes ago and I see one has a knife and the other an ax. Peeta is the boy with the knife. The boy with the ax is a little bigger than Peeta. Vick tells me he is from District Seven. Lumber. Explains his choice of weapon. Peeta somehow manages to pin the District Seven boy to the ground. District Seven swings his ax, but Peeta blocks it, getting what appears to be a superficial cut on his arm. He manages to twist District Seven's wrist, dislodging the ax and kicking it away. Peeta hesitates as he holds the knife towards District Seven's throat and it nearly costs him his life as he is flipped over. District Seven goes for his ax again and Peeta stabs him in the chest, killing him. We don't make a sound. No cheering for our District Twelve tribute. He is alive, but he is a killer.

They cut away to another battle. Blood. Gore. A tribute is decapitated. Vick leaps to his feet and throws himself towards the kitchen floor, heaving up his breakfast into the old, dented bucket positioned there. I knew we shouldn't have fed the kids breakfast. A total waste of food. I follow him, stroking his back and murmuring soothing words I do not feel. I look up and everyone is watching us and not the TV. I take the towel from the counter, wet it and wipe his face. He is shaking. Capitol makes me sick, too. Just not physically.

Suddenly my mother hisses, "Peacekeepers!" She bends to turn Posy towards the TV while I position myself behind Vick so we are both facing the TV and I am no longer blocking his view of the continuing Bloodbath as the Peacekeepers barge into the house. Oh, how did we get so lucky to be on the Peacekeepers first round today?

They look about, taking in everyone's positions. Making sure we are all watching the Mandatory Viewing like good little citizens. Posy scrambles into my mother's lap, watching them in fear.

One of the Peacekeepers demands to know why Vick and I are so far from the TV, obviously suspicious. I invite him to inspect the contents of Vick's bucket as proof of his viewing the Bloodbath. He approaches, looking at Vick, green and trembling, just as Vick heaves again, splattering the Peacekeeper's boots with his breakfast.

For a minute I am afraid the Peacekeeper is going to kick Vick, so I move between them and offer him a towel. He ignores me, returning to the door where his partner is taking down all of our names and entering them into his electronic tablet before they leave. They make the rounds constantly during the Games, barging in unannounced to check up on the viewers. Making sure everyone is watching. Attentively.

For most of the Games, we are permitted to watch at home, although everyone is expected to view at least one day a week in the square. The square must look full if they decide to cut to a view of a particular district at any point during the Games. If the Peacekeeper decides to report us, Vick and I or possibly all of us might be required to view it every night from the square. He didn't say anything, so I think we are safe on that score.

I go back to cleaning Vick up and when we're done he lays down on the floor in front of the couch. Rory gets him a pillow from our bed. Posy scrambles off our mother's lap and runs to me with her hands in the air. "Gale, Gale," she sobs.

I pick her up and sit back in my chair, rocking her back and forth, tucking her head into my shoulder to keep her from seeing any more. I watch the TV mindlessly as the Bloodbath finally peters out. Relief floods me. Katniss has survived the Bloodbath. She is safe in the woods for now.

Mrs. Everdeen is staring, glassy-eyed, at the TV. Prim is cuddled up to Rory next to her, hiding her face in his shoulder whenever things get too bad. Which has been most of the last two hours.

To my surprise, Peeta is standing near the Cornucopia facing the Career pack of six tributes. Apparently he doesn't want to survive the Bloodbath, because no one without a death wish would take on the whole Career pack single-handedly. They are all laughing at him.

"So, Lover Boy," Cato calls out to him. 'Lover Boy'? Seriously? "Where's your girlfriend?" She is_ not_ his girlfriend.

"She ran into the woods," he volunteers. Is he going to offer to lead them to her? Reveal all of her secrets? He certainly knows she hunts with a bow. It is an open secret in this district. His father buys her squirrels.

"Let me guess. She rejected you, so you decided to end all it by staying here?" Cato sneers.

"No. We just didn't want to be together in the arena. We have different approaches." Hah! Katniss wouldn't ally with him. Take that for an approach.

"So, your approach is to die today?" Cato mocks.

"No. I want to join your alliance." They laugh at him again. Peeta wants to join the Careers? He must have a death wish. Because even if he somehow managed to survive the Games, he would be a total pariah back in District Twelve. Other districts never join the Career alliance. They don't even try. It is death. He would be better off dead.

"I scored the same as he did," Peeta points to the boy from District Four with his knife, which drips blood from his kill. He has a point. Other districts rarely produce tributes with Peeta's high score, either. The others weren't worthy of consideration. So then, he does have a point beyond his knife's point. I watch with growing curiosity as Peeta's strategy unfolds

Vick pipes up, "He did. They both got eights. Ladon Seacrest, from District Four."

Cato eyes the knife in Peeta's hand. "You kill somebody with that?"

"The boy from Seven," Peeta answers casually.

Vick provides a name, "Paul Brockton."

District Four speaks up, "You can't be seriously considering letting him in!"

"Shut up, Ladon. We're not talking about an easy kill like some scrawny little girl. That boy from Seven was big. Who have you killed today? Just the girl from Three, right?" He turns back to Peeta "Did he have a weapon?"

"Ax," Peeta offers, unimpressed.

"He's all talk. We can't let District _Twelve_ into our alliance! Let me take him," Ladon demands, advancing towards Peeta, swinging a mace.

"You think you can take Ladon, here?" Cato asks Peeta.

"No problem," Peeta answers, lunging at Ladon, taking him down and slitting his throat in one smooth move. The Careers are stunned. Absolutely _stunned_. So are _we_. He _is_ dangerous. Now, I'm really glad Katniss didn't wait for him. So much for Madge's sweet, gentle friend not lasting long in the arena. He's killed two and the bloodbath isn't even over. Or… is it?

Peeta rolls to his feet immediately and faces Cato, obviously not trusting the Careers not to stab him in the back for killing their ally. "Well? Am I in? You do have a vacancy."

Cato shares a glance with each of the remaining Career tributes before turning back to Peeta, "You're in."

However did Peeta manage that? Taking down a Career so fast? And, talking himself into their alliance? There was no hesitation this time when he killed. If he had hesitated against a Career, even for a second, he would be dead.

Rory suddenly says, "Hey, maybe I should join the wrestling team."

We all look at him strangely, so he continues, "Peeta is one of the best wrestlers in the school, ya know." Great. Now Rory is planning to model himself after Peeta Mellark?

Oh, so this is basically wrestling with a knife. I see. Hand to hand combat. I had dangerously underestimated Peeta. You just never know how someone is going to react to the life-and-death struggle in the arena.

They check the bodies of the tributes surrounding the Cornucopia to make sure they haven't left any survivors before they head over to collect the supplies they want. They move down to the lake with their water bottles, giving the hovercrafts time to come in and clear away the bodies from the Bloodbath.

It is late afternoon when the first round of cannons fire. Eleven. Eleven children dead. Eleven families grieving. Twelve more to go. Some game.

We see glimpses of the surviving tributes trekking through the woods and fields, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Careers as possible. As much as we want to see Katniss, to reassure ourselves that she is all right, we know that if she is not on screen that means she is safe. We get a few brief glimpses of her walking in the forest. She stops to check the contents of her pack. She has the knife from District Two, a sheet of plastic, a sleeping bag, a pair of sunglasses, a few crackers, dried meat, iodine, matches, an empty water bottle and a coil of wire. If only the bottle had been full of water she would be well off. She lost the loaf of bread in her struggle with the District Nine boy. Still, she is better prepared than the kids who ran straight for the woods with nothing. As we had urged her to do.

They cut back to the Careers. Mostly we will be seeing them for the first few days as they hunt down the weaker tributes. They are setting up camp between the lake and the Cornucopia. One of the girls is tending to Peeta's arm, asking flirtatiously why he and Katniss aren't together. The sexpot from One. Glimmer. She looked a lot prettier in that gold dress. What little there was of it.

"We didn't want it to come down to the two of us. We would never be able to kill each other." Oh, I think Katniss would be able to kill you now, after she finds out you have joined up with the Careers. Traitor.

The girl laughs at the absurdity of it coming down to the two tributes from District Twelve.

Cato comes over, wanting to know more about Katniss. "So, how did she get that eleven, Lover Boy?" Is that _really_ going to be his name from now on? Ugh.

Peeta doesn't answer him right away and Cato snarls, "If you want to be a Career, you have to help us hunt down _everyone _else. What is her strategy? Will she come after us or hide? Hide or hunt?"

"She won't come looking for us. She will hide. She's a survivor, not a hunter." We all laugh in disbelief at his characterization of Katniss. What is he up to? Is he trying to make her seem less of a threat, so they won't go looking for her? Why? No matter how hard Peeta tries to make her look like a frightened little girl, they all know she got _the_ top score in training.

"What is her weapon? She didn't get an _eleven_ by hiding from the Gamemakers," Cato pushes. If he tells them about the bow….

"Knife," Peeta says, looking smugly at Clove. He must realize she "gave" Katniss a knife with her errant throw. Katniss is good with a knife, but her weapon is a bow and he knows it. Is he letting Clove know that she armed Katniss with her supposedly preferred weapon? And that he knows it? Toying with her? What is the point? What is his strategy?

"Did she get a knife before she left?" Cato continues his interrogation, not questioning the truth of Peeta's statements.

Peeta looks from Clove to Cato, "Yeah, Clove gave her one as she was running away." Yes, he is toying with her.

Cato turns on Clove, "What is he talking about? Did you injure her? You didn't _miss_, did you? You never miss," he asks in disbelief.

She throws the supplies she was arranging angrily to the ground, "No, of course not. She blocked it with her backpack. A nice, bright, orange backpack. It will be like a beacon when we hunt her tonight," she exclaims.

"Yeah, and I'll enjoy that." Cato laughs in Peeta's face. "What did she say to you after the interview? She shoot you down?"

"She said she wished she had known how I felt back home. Because she feels the same," Peeta chokes out. I feel like I've been kicked in the gut. I can't catch my breath. She feels the same? She has a crush? _On him?_ My hands are shaking, I grab onto my knees hard to stop them.

Cato turns back to Peeta, "So, why didn't you want to spend your last few nights alive with your girlfriend, Lover Boy? Getting all cozy in a sleeping bag with her?" Like Katniss would have let _that_ happen. Cato is still clearly suspicious of Peeta.

Katniss has a crush on Peeta? No. I won't believe that. I _refuse_ to believe that. In his dreams! But, there was that…look on her face when he was reaped.

Peeta stands up, "This isn't exactly a romantic setting, Cato. No privacy. Too many cameras," he waves his hand in the air expansively. "We had one night. One _perfect_ night. It was all we were fated to have together. We wanted to remember each other as we were. Before the Games. We don't want to see each other die, and we certainly don't want it coming down to the two of us… because we would _never_ be able to kill each other!"

I don't hear Cato's response. All I can hear is Peeta's voice in my head. _We had one night. One perfect night. _If I had had anything to eat today, it would join Vick's breakfast.

Everyone in the room is very quiet. Unnaturally so. I don't have to look to know that I am the center of attention. And, the recipient of pitying looks from my mother and others.

When the program is interrupted for commercials and announcements, I hop up and head for the backyard, emptying Vick's bucket and tending to the smoker.

_We had one night. One perfect night, _reverberates in my head. That…that bastard! Did he take advantage of her? Did he seduce her in her vulnerable state? My Catnip. My _innocent_ Catnip who has never even wanted a boyfriend. Was she so afraid of dying, so afraid of being alone that she sought comfort in Peeta Mellark's arms? In his _bed?_

I pick up the rickety old chair Vick had been sitting in this morning and smash it against a nearby tree, taking little satisfaction in the loud noise when it splinters to pieces. I seethe. If Peeta Mellark were standing before me, I would have no trouble carrying out the threat I made in the Justice Building. Catnip. My lovely, innocent Catnip.

My mother comes out to lead me back inside. I don't care if the Peacekeepers see me. What does it matter? What does _anything_ matter?

I sit through the evening in a daze. Just before sundown, we see Katniss again. She has been walking all day with no food, no water. She looks exhausted.

She pulls out the coil of wire, setting up two twitch-up snares in the brush, before walking away a short distance and climbing up into a willow tree. That's _my_ girl. Smart girl. You will have breakfast waiting when you wake up. She is camouflaged behind the long, flowing branches. She should be safe from detection up there for the night.

As darkness falls in the arena, they broadcast the death recap for the surviving tributes. Eleven dead. Thirteen remaining. While the surviving tributes are only shown a simple headshot to indicate who is dead, we at home are shown a complete review of each death.

As if today hasn't been horrific enough, they now show us each death and every grisly detail, dissecting it for us. All of the day's horrors condensed into two hours of unmitigated cruelty, unending bloodshed and unearthly screams. When the recap is over, kids ten and under are allowed to go to bed. Their mandatory viewing is over. Coming up next for your viewing pleasure: nightmares.

The rest of us have two hours more to watch. The Career pack, which now includes Peeta, is on the hunt. Peeta, the _sweetest_ boy Madge knows. Lover Boy. Peeta the seducer. Peeta the despoiler of innocents. Peeta the killer. Peeta the Career tribute. Peeta the traitor. He's a dead man walking.

The girl from District Eight is shown starting a fire to keep warm. She may as well send up flares. She will attract the Careers. Stupid girl.

I am glad Katniss has her sleeping bag to keep her warm. They show us a shot of Katniss, barely visible through the branches, looking at something. Furious. That is when I realize she is very close to the fire-starter. That foolish girl has put Katniss in danger. Stupid people are so dangerous.

At midnight the broadcast ends. People have school and work tomorrow. We have to wait until midday tomorrow to see some _highlights_ and then tomorrow evening for the full broadcast. The Careers are sure to be headed in their direction right now. How are we supposed to sleep knowing the Careers are closing in on Katniss and her stupid neighbor? She could be dead by morning.

I walk Prim and Mrs. Everdeen home in silence. Katniss lived through the first day, but none of us feel like celebrating. Surviving in the arena is as much about luck as it is about skill. I hope her luck isn't running out.

By the time I return home, the kids are all asleep and Mom is checking the meat in the smoker. She sends me to bed. I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is the day I plan on signing up at the mines.

I crawl into bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. But, Katniss is alive. I hold onto that thought. It is _all_ that matters, I tell myself. If she slept with Peeta in a desperate moment of weakness, I can forgive her. She must do whatever it takes to survive. Kill. Make alliances. Betray alliances. Whatever it takes. I can forgive her anything. She just has to come home to me.

Wednesday

Games Day 2

I wake to Posy screaming in the darkness. My mother picks her up and takes her into the other room, so I simply roll over and go back to sleep. I wake at my usual pre-dawn time and drag myself out of bed. I am still exhausted, but I get ready to go to the mines, anyway. We need the money and I need something to keep me busy. A distraction until tonight when I can see Katniss again. We will get a midday break of highlights at the mine, just like we used to do in school, but I won't know for sure she is all right until tonight's broadcast.

I see Posy asleep on the couch. Mom is up. She's made me a substantial breakfast. I'll need to eat it, seeing as I didn't eat much of anything yesterday and since mining is such physically demanding work. We don't talk, but as I prepare to head out the door wearing my father's hardhat, she hands me his lunch pail.

"Your father would be so proud of you, Gale. How you have taken such good care of us since he died," she hugs me fiercely before I leave.

Signing up is a simple process and, almost before I know it, I am assigned to a crew and descending miles beneath the surface into the tunnels. My father died down in these endless, dark tunnels. As the old elevator creaks and groans under its burden, I force myself to relax. To breathe normally.

I spend the day swinging a pickax at the wall of a tunnel, scooping up the loosened chunks into a bucket and emptying it into a car on a track. It is physically exhausting, but essentially mindless. It keeps my body busy, but my mind is free to obsess over what is happening in the arena this morning, what will happen later today, later this week. What happened between Katniss and Peeta on the night before the Games? _One perfect night_.

At midday, as expected, we get to break for lunch and watch an hour of highlights from overnight and this morning. We see the Careers hiking through the forest; the fire-starter curled up by her fire and Katniss, stranded in her tree, nearby. They cut to scenes of other tributes, trying to keep warm or eating. We see the Careers arguing over whether or not some girl is dead. Why don't they know? Did one of them escape injured? They must be talking about the fire-starter. We hear her screams echoing in the tunnels around us. Everything is edited together to draw out our suspense, and we don't find out who they are talking about. We will have to wait until tonight.

The afternoon passes at an agonizing crawl as I chip away in an endless tunnel of coal. I will spend the rest of my life in these tunnels, my skin slowly taking on the grey tinge of the older miners. My lungs protest the thick air, heavy with coal dust and sweat. The air of death. So fundamentally different from the air of the forest. The air of life. The air of freedom.

Finally, we are sent home. I'll have just enough time to get home and wash up before tonight's broadcast. From here on out it won't be as bad for the kids. Half of the deaths have already occurred. And kids under ten have to watch only a few hours a night, not the entire six hours the adults do.

The broadcast starts at 6 PM and begins with dawn approaching in the arena. The Career pack reaches the fire-starter they have been tracking for hours. She and Katniss must have put a good distance between themselves and the Cornucopia, but no amount of distance is sufficient if you start a fire in the dead of night.

They run up to the sleeping girl, but instead of killing her in her sleep, one of the Career girls kicks her awake. She pleads for her life, and then screams as Cato slices her open with his sword. She falls back to the ground, lifeless.

They are laughing and congratulating each other before one of the girls calls out "Twelve down and eleven to go!" which draws a round of hoots from the pack. They all enjoy this, which is the main reason most people from the districts despise the Careers. Aside from the fact they are the Capitol's lapdogs.

They ransack the girl's meager supplies and find nothing of value.

"Better get out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," says Cato callously as they leave the clearing, heading closer to Katniss. _Don't move, Catnip_.

They stop about ten yards from her tree, shining their flashlights about the clearing. "Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?"

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately." Unless the Gamemakers are waiting because they know Katniss is nearby. The killing might not be over.

"Unless she isn't dead."

"She's dead. I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the canon?"

"Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice."

"I said she's dead!"

Finally, Peeta joins the argument and when he does they show us a split screen of Katniss' reaction. "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" he yells.

Katniss starts in shock, rolling to the side and nearly falling out of the tree to get a look at Peeta. If he gets her killed, I might just stow away on a train to the Capitol, break into the arena and finish him myself!

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note

_Special_ thanks to Ellenka, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, ParanormalAngel, Aninha Flavia, Animic, God1801, DirtyAngelToes, JessPuggyand greenrose15 for reviewing multiple chapters of this story! Your feedback and support means so much to me!

Hey, did you know you can, Alert, Favorite and Review all with just one click by hitting the review button? You'd be amazed how many people favorite or alert without leaving a review. It isn't hard. I do appreciate all of my followers, even if they are too shy to leave a review,LOL.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: In defense of Peeta (my version)**

Don't worry; chapter 12 follows this long note

I had a comment questioning if Peeta killed anyone other than Foxface during THG. To my knowledge, it was never stated definitively. Katniss missed most of the bloodbath, and THG was told from her perspective. She doesn't know what happened, so we don't know. I am basing my version on the clues we are given. He was at the bloodbath from 10AM until the end (late afternoon according to when the cannons fired) when he joined the Careers. Eleven people died at the Cornucopia. Not counting those who fled, six people survived: five Careers and Peeta. He is bruised and bloody when Katniss sees him that night, so he was in some kind of combat. I don't believe the Careers would have let him join without knowing he was willing and able to kill and they said he was "handy with a knife." I don't believe that line, spoken in the Hunger Games by a Career, can be interpreted in any other way than that Peeta had killed someone with it. Also, the night before the Games he told Katniss "I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight." I don't believe he is a cold-blooded killer like the Careers, but I do believe he was fighting for his life in the Bloodbath and killed one or more tributes in self-defense. Infiltrating the Career pack wasn't done by accident. He and Haymitch must have strategized it ahead of time and Haymitch would have known it couldn't be done without bloodshed. Both of Peeta's victims were armed and coming at him, so it isn't in cold blood. This is my take on it.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 12**

Games Day 2, Wednesday evening continues

The long, flowing branches concealing Katniss sway. The leaves rustle. I hold my breath, waiting for the Careers to notice. They are too caught up in their argument, and to unaccustomed to the sounds of a forest to notice what would be, to me, to us, a sound of movement. Of prey. These Careers are killers, but not true hunters.

"Go on, then, _Lover Boy_," Cato sneers. "See for yourself."

Peeta walks back to where the District Eight girl lies gravely injured, writhing in agony. She whimpers when he kneels at her side. She isn't long for this world. He gently brushes her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "What's your name?"

"W-Willow," she says shakily. I wish he hadn't asked her name. It makes this harder to watch.

"It's okay, Willow, just close your eyes," he says, stroking her hair. "It'll all be over soon," he promises gently. It is obvious he is steeling himself to put her out of her misery as he takes several deep breaths.

She nods her head and reaches for his free hand. "W-what's your name?" she asks in a raspy voice.

"Peeta," he whispers.

"Thank you, Peeta," she breathes, closing her eyes. He takes another deep breath, fingering his knife. I hold my breath as he hesitates. He closes his eyes, breathing heavily. I can feel the struggle he is going through. Finally, he moves his hand from the knife to the blanket she lost during the attack. He pulls it over her carefully before going back to stroking her hair. He can't bring himself to do it. I'm not surprised. He isn't like the others. The only one with the opportunity to kill who refrains.

"It's okay to let go. You aren't alone," his voice is soft and comforting, almost mesmerizing.

She opens her eyes again, looking at him in confusion. Her breaths come slower now.

"It is beautiful here; don't you think, Willow? Do you see how the shafts of sunlight are just beginning to pierce through the mist of the forest? It is so peaceful." He continues to stroke her hair, ever so softly.

She blinks her eyes a few times before they flutter closed.

"This is my favorite time of day, when the light is just beginning to conquer the darkness. The sky is painted in soft colors of pink and red and orange," he confides in a hushed tone. "You know, this kind of orange is my favorite color."

Her head lolls to the side and she exhales her final breath.

He stays there beside her, holding her hand for another minute. In all my years of watching the Hunger Games, I have never witnessed a death quite like that. He managed to give her a peaceful death amidst all of the bloodshed and horror. After wiping his sleeve across his eyes, Peeta stands up and heads back towards the Careers.

I look at my mother, "I hated Peeta after he joined the Careers and talked about Katniss the way he did, but how can I possibly hate someone who takes the time to do _that_ in the Hunger Games?" I ask, gesturing towards the TV. "You just can't hate the guy…not if you really know him.

"He used his words to ease her out of her misery instead of his knife. If they had gone to see what was taking him so long…" I trail off without finishing the thought, resuming with another: "I'm going to hate to see him die."

"It was beautiful, what he said. You would almost think he was ushering someone he cared for into the next world," my mother agrees. "…and, he didn't even know her name."

Mrs. Everdeen, who's seen so much death, speaks for the first time since the Games began, "People are naturally comforted hearing their own name. He eased her death. Painted a picture for her with his words. Something peaceful and beautiful for her to leave this world with. The sunrise she didn't live to see."

I am pleased to see Mrs. Everdeen aware enough to join in our conversation. She sounds like the compassionate healer she is, rather than the empty shell of a woman I feared to see her reverting to.

The Careers have been standing nearby Katniss' tree, arguing whether to kill him now or let him lead them to Katniss. She must be scared out of her mind. One of them argues that they should keep him, as he is "handy with a knife". Yes, you could say that, even if it is an understatement. He has killed two people with that knife. Although, I am coming to believe his most powerful weapon may be his words: the way he talked himself into their alliance; the way he comforted the dying girl.

"Was she dead?" Cato demands of Peeta when he returns.

"No. But she is now," Peeta's claim is punctuated by the firing of a cannon. He looks towards the willow tree where Katniss hides and I see his eyes narrow slightly. Does he see her? "Ready to move on?" he asks coolly, his attention firmly back on his allies.

The Careers have been hunting all night and decide to head back to their camp, leaving Katniss undetected in her tree. Peeta leads them out of the little clearing. Did he see her? He couldn't have known it was her up in that tree. Still, he does lead them away.

Less than twenty-four hours in and already half of the twenty-four tributes are dead. I rest my head back against my chair, relaxing for the first time since tonight's programming began. Katniss is one of the survivors. She is a survivor. She will survive.

We see her hop down from her perch, after what I have to assume is a decent amount of time. It is impossible to tell how long, since this has all been edited. But, the light is stronger. She gives the camera a strange smile before she heads off to check the snares. I am undeceived. She is confused and upset about Peeta, but she is putting on a brave front for the cameras.

She finds a nice, fat rabbit waiting for her. After she skins and guts it, she takes it to the dying fire of the District Eight girl who was just collected by hovercraft. Using the dead girl's fire was clever. Much safer than building a new fire. She smears the orange backpack with the ashes, but it doesn't do enough to camouflage the color. She has food, now she needs only to find water.

The Careers stumble upon the boy tribute from District Three on their way back to camp. He somehow manages to convince them he can help them protect their camp, offering to rewire the mines from the launch plates to booby-trap their supplies. This Career pack is certainly different from past years. They now have two non-traditional members in their alliance! This is not a typical pack of Careers. I realize they are even more dangerous than we originally thought.

I still feel confidence in Katniss.

I find myself wondering if this will be one of the odd years where we really will get a Victor from an underdog district like Three or Twelve. Most likely they will kill District Three as soon as he finishes with the booby-trap, unless they need him to maintain it. It wouldn't surprise me if he designs it that way deliberately. The rare Victors from Three win by outsmarting the Careers, not overpowering them.

We finally see Katniss walking through the woods, eating her rabbit as she goes.

The commentators are speculating about the 'star-crossed lovers' and what will happen if they meet up in the arena. What will Peeta do if the Careers corner her? _I wish I knew._ Did she know of his plan to join up with the Careers? _No, that was why she nearly fell out of the tree._

She picks some berries I don't recognize and tosses them away upon closer examination. The commentators tell us they are poisonous. I exhale in relief, because I didn't recognize them, either. How can these people sit there calmly commenting on these casual cruelties? 'Oh, good thing she didn't eat those. They are poisonous,' they say with amused smiles. Tempting hungry, thirsty kids with poisonous berries; Trick or Treat? Happy Halloween in the Capitol.

The Careers have arrived back at their camp. District Three is explaining how he intends to unearth the mines and relocate them in an intricate maze surrounding their supplies. In this way they can access the supplies but anyone who didn't know the pattern would trip a mine and be killed.

Peeta questions, "I don't like it. Wouldn't that destroy all of our supplies, as well?"

District Three hastens to assure them that one explosion alone wouldn't be enough to destroy the supplies, because each charge was designed to kill only the tribute standing directly above. He would _personally_ ensure they would be placed in such a way as to make it impossible for one person to detonate more than one mine. Yeah, he must always remain personally_ alive_ to ensure it, too. Clever boy.

The Careers discuss it and agree to his plan. They spend the rest of the day reorganizing their supplies, digging up the twenty-four mines and moving them into their new positions.

The girl tribute from Five sits in a tree nearby watching their efforts with what appears to be glee on her face. I wonder if she is mentally stable. We haven't seen much of her before. Vick tells us her name is Ginger Todd.

I sometimes worry about Vick's interest in their names and stories. Is it healthy for him to obsess over the Games in this way? Does it serve to desensitize him, reducing them to mere pieces in the Games?

"Vick, why do you like to know their names? Doesn't that make it harder to watch the Games?" I ask.

"Gale, leave him alone," my mother admonishes.

"I like to know their names because it makes it easier to remember them," he explains.

"When you see them on screen?" our mother asks.

"No, after they are dead. I remember them all," he says in that serious way he has.

"All? All twelve who have died?" I ask.

"Not only these twelve. All of the ones who have ever died…well, since I started keeping notebooks."

"All of them? How many is that?" I ask, appalled. How did I not know this about my youngest brother?

"One hundred and four. I have been keeping track since I was six."

"Why?" I ask faintly. Should I stop him from doing this? No, it is how he deals with the horror. Very analytical, too, my little brother.

"Someone needs to remember the victims," he says quietly. Vick is only ten, how does he come up with ideas like this? Here I was wishing a few minutes ago that Peeta hadn't asked Willow's name because it made it harder to watch.

I'm suddenly a bit ashamed of what I thought and glad that Peeta asked the girl's name. Now everyone who was watching knows her name. She has a name. She had a family. Someone who cares that she is dead.

I note also: the Capitol was defeated in its attempt to dehumanize the girl and her death. And in dehumanizing Peeta when he didn't play his appointed role. Yes, learning her name was key…for Peeta and for us viewers. Of course, unlike strategizing "me", Peeta and my little brother do these things naturally, without hidden intent. I sigh: they're both better than I am. But, I'm the more deadly to the Capitol. Katniss is, too.

Thinking of Katniss (and now, when do I not?), we see Katniss trudging through the forest, climbing a tree at one point, looking for water. She is stumbling along, obviously getting severely dehydrated. If anyone finds her she will be in serious trouble.

Fortunately, the Careers are busy with their landmine project today. At sundown, she climbs a tree to settle in for another night.

When they play the anthem we see the only death for the day is the girl from Eight. Willow. Like the tree Katniss was hiding in. Do other people (normal people) notice these things? Is that what attracted Peeta's attention to the tree?

If something doesn't happen overnight, the Gamemakers will be feeling the pressure to make something happen tomorrow. They have the instinct of natural entertainers who can sense when they're losing their audience.

At least for now things are quiet and Katniss is safe. She only needs to find water. Easier said than done most years.

As I wash my teeth getting ready for bed, I swirl the rinse water around in my cup, thinking of how thirsty Katniss must be right now, stranded in her tree. How many tributes have we seen die from hunger and thirst over the years I couldn't even begin to guess.

As I lay in bed thinking of her, I expect to have trouble falling asleep. But, my body is exhausted from the day at the mines and sleep overcomes me soon enough.

_Katniss stumbles through a dense green forest, full of small game and deadly lush berries. The plants and animals all need water, it has to be here, so she hunts for it. It has to be here somewhere, she is confident. She uses every tracking and hunting trick she knows, but it's no use. She isn't going to find the water in time. She falls to the ground, weak and disoriented. This isn't really a forest at all. It is only an arena. In a real forest there would be streams and ponds for the wildlife. _

_Water in the arena is controlled by the purple-robed Gamemakers gleefully watching her stumble about looking for water as they deliberately keep it just out of her reach. I can do nothing but scream useless warnings at my TV as she is surrounded by the bloodthirsty Career pack. "Let Lover Boy wake her. He is handy with a knife," I hear as Peeta bends over her inert form and... _

Games Day 3, Thursday

"Katniss, watch out!" I hear myself scream as I wake. Did I say that aloud, I wonder, my heart pounding. I look around the bedroom at my sleeping family. No, apparently not.

I lie in bed, thinking about Katniss for a while as my heart returns to its normal rhythm. I have seen plenty of tributes die of dehydration over the years, but I don't believe they would do that to her. She got an eleven in training, after all. Surely they expect to get more of a show out of her than merely having her die of thirst. She hasn't had even one real confrontation with another tribute yet. I don't count the Bloodbath, since she wasn't armed.

She will find water today, or Haymitch will send it. I am confident of it.

As I get ready for work I look at my blistered hands. These are going to hurt like hell today. I wonder how long before the needed calluses develop?

When I get to work I find I have been switched to a new crew. My father's crew leader requested my transfer to his crew, which I am pleased to find, includes my friends Thom and Jax. Having someone to talk with will help the time to pass, I'm sure. Twelve hours a day, six days a week for the rest of my life. And I am willing it to pass faster; essentially wishing my life away.

I am nervous about today's highlights. What new horrors await her today? I want to see her, but hopefully something exciting is going on with another group and I won't. I am torn between my need to see her and my need to not see her, knowing that means she is safe.

The highlights begin with Katniss _falling_ out of her tree. My heart crashes to the ground along with her. She seems disoriented. "Water," she calls out hopelessly. She buries her face in her hands in disappointment when no silver parachute appears. What is Haymitch waiting for? She must have enough sponsors for _water!_

The rest of the highlights feature shots of the Careers; some hunting in the forest, some in the grain fields. A group of Careers walk within a few feet of the giant from Eleven without noticing as he lay, motionless, in the grass. Thresh. Good thing for them… Thresh would Thrash them. Thresh them as wheat. My mind wanders off in the horror into word-play…separate the wheat from the chaff. And the Careers are chaff…selfish. So dishonorable in their desires. I chafe at their complicity. Yes, all of these kids have names. Some are just so suitable.

When I get home, I wash up and then eat as the show begins. My life during the Games is nothing but working and watching the Games. I am lucky to get five hours of sleep a night.

Tonight's broadcast features clips of the scattered tributes scavenging for food, and the Careers hunting unsuccessfully for them as they do. They don't leave anyone at camp, even taking District Three hunting with them. I wonder how long before someone kills him?

We find ourselves laughing as Ginger, District Five, dances up to the Careers' supply pyramid with a series of hops and jumps. Now I know why she was watching them with such glee. She rummages through their supplies, filling a small backpack, before reversing her dance and backing away undetected.

We see Katniss make a walking stick and stumble on in her search for water. They put up a map of the arena, showing us how close she is to finding it. She is headed in the right direction. If only she knew. She stumbles several times throughout the day, barely managing to get back to her feet. Finally her walking stick slips in the mud and she collapses, closing her eyes. She is lying perfectly still, except for her fingers that are tracing shapes in the mud. _Mud, Katniss! You are so close._

Suddenly her eyes fly open and she grabs a handful of the mud. Finally, she crawls into a small pond covered in pond lilies, five yards from where she fell. The commentators are impressed when she has the restraint to purify her water before drinking it. I expected no less from my Catnip. She is savvy. And tough.

She sits there for a long time, sipping her water slowly. I can almost feel the cool water slipping down her parched throat. Past her cracked lips. She is going to be all right, I sigh. Eventually, she climbs a tree with a full water bottle and finds a comfortable perch. She eats her rabbit and drinks her life-sustaining water.

The anthem plays, revealing no deaths today, despite the Careers spending hours trolling the woods and fields for victims.

Katniss settles in for a recuperative night of sleep as the broadcast ends.

Games day 4, Friday.

We break for lunch and the daily highlights show a stampede of animals running through the forest, dodging trees and each other in their frenzied flight. There is a roaring thunder coming out of the speakers, echoing ominously about us. We don't make a sound as our attention is riveted to the screen. Fire. They have set the arena ablaze. There is a huge, unnatural wall of fire devouring the forest and everything in its path. They cut to a view of Katniss sleeping in a tree, an ominous glow in the background as it cuts a path straight towards her, unaware.

The wall of fire is descending on Katniss! _"NO! NO! NO!"_ I scream, frantic with terror. She wakes, looking down at the animals in confusion before she sees the fire closing in. Her eyes widen in terror at the wall of fire; now so close that the flames are reflected in her eyes.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's note:

There will be more of Madge in succeeding chapters, but THG is not primarily a romance and she will not be in every chapter. I expect she will feature prominently in chapter thirteen (But I haven't actually written it, yet.). Gale is still in love with Katniss, but he is developing a close friendship with Madge. And, as noted in this chapter, between the Games and working twelve hours a day, six days a week, the poor guy is lucky to get five hours of sleep a night as it is. But there will be some heavier Gadge moments in the future. This story is canon compliant, so when Katniss comes home, he intends to win her love.

Peeta's family will be making an appearance in an upcoming chapter. I need names for the father, mother and brothers. I am considering these names for the guys: (all are kinds of bread or grain or plays on them) Bannock, Farl, Oatis, Rye, Wheaten & Zoph. I'm leaning towards Oatis and Bannock for the brothers. I love Rye, but I think most of the fics I have seen use Rye as one of the brothers, so I'm a little reluctant to use it too. Maybe for the father? Opinions?

Mrs. Mellark also needs a name, but not a bread related one, since she wasn't born a baker's wife. Any suggestionss?

**And thanks to all of my wonderful, faithful reviewers!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Games Day 4, Friday

They show us a montage of clips - Katniss running, Katniss jumping over logs, Katniss dodging fireballs. Her jacket catching fire as the commentators joke about District Twelve's "Girl on Fire". Finally, the highlights end.

Katniss on fire. Katniss is on fire. On Fire! These damn Gamemakers. They did this on purpose! Targeting her because of her costume in the opening ceremonies. As if she had anything to do with it.

I may have been ranting aloud, or maybe I was just so visibly upset that my crew leader sent me home for the day. The mines are no place for someone as dangerously on edge as I am. They are quite dangerous enough with everyone alert and careful, thank you.

Home. He sent me home. So that I can stew about what is happening to her for six more hours before tonight's broadcast? _On fire_. Could be dead right now. Dead. Gone. She is at least severely burned. She had barely twelve hours to recover from her dehydration and now this. Winning would be hard enough if she were at peak condition. But with a target on her back? Crippling burns? They are really stacking the deck against her. They hate her, I realize.

But, Katniss is smart. She will have found a way to survive. Lose the jacket before getting burnt. The Gamemakers often use such devices to drive tributes together, not to kill them outright.

So, Katniss is likely injured and in close proximity to another tribute. How injured? How close? How am I going to wait until six o'clock to learn if she lives?

I find I have walked not to my house, but to Madge's. On autopilot. But, of course! Madge does have the extended Capitol coverage. _She_ will know if Katniss is all right.

I walk up to the front door and knock. When the Undersee's maid answers, she gives me a disapproving look and I suddenly realize I am filthy, coming as I have straight from the mine.

"Is Madge home?"

"Miss Undersee is at school," she says, somehow managing to look down her nose at me even though I am a foot taller.

Darn it. How did I forget about school, of all things? Only weeks ago I was there, too. It is just after lunch. She won't be home for a couple of hours. I'm never going to get by this maid, either. I'll go home and wash up and meet Madge when she gets out of school. I'm just about to turn away when I hear a voice inside asking the maid who is at the door.

"The Hawthorne boy, ma'am," the maid answers.

"Oh, do have him come in," the female voice says formally.

The maid looks in horror at my filthy pants and boots, no doubt imagining the mess I am going to make in her clean hall. She walks to the entrance to the living room, "Mrs. Undersee, he is…he is _covered in soot,"_ she hisses in distress.

I wish the porch would just open up and swallow me whole. My mother is going to kill me if she hears about this. I hope nobody I know knows the Undersee's maid.

"He is Madge's friend. If he has come straight from the mines, then I am certain he has a good reason. This is District Twelve. There is a reason the floors are marble. We've cleaned up soot before. Have him come in," she instructs the recalcitrant maid.

The chastised maid returns to the door and bids me to follow her. I wipe my boots on the mat in a useless attempt to prevent soiling her floors before following her inside.

"Mrs. Undersee, I'm so sorry to call on Madge without cleaning up first. I…I wasn't thinking. I'll go home now. I'm sorry to trouble you," I ramble, looking at the woman resting on the couch Madge and I sat on the night of the tribute special.

"Oh, please don't apologize, Gale. I understand, better than most. I saw the highlights, too," she says quietly. "Madge will be home shortly. And, you may wait for her."

"Thank you, but I really should go home first."

"No, there is no need to go all the way home. We have plenty of guest rooms here for you to wash up. I'll have Annis show you to a room, Gale."

She turns to the maid, "Annis, please show Gale to a guest room and find him something to wear while you wash his clothes. He will be staying to await Madge's return. And for lunch."

I'm trying to figure out a polite way out of this, but Mrs. Undersee is quite determined. Must be having one of her good days. Annis asks me to follow her, and I soon find myself in one of the many guestrooms the Mayor's house has to accommodate visiting Capitol officials and reporters.

The large, spotless room has two large windows overlooking the backyard and a huge bed big enough to fit my entire family. There is a clock on the bedside table telling me that Madge has two hours of school left. I should have gone home. How did I get myself into this mess? Annis has walked through a second door and calls me to follow her. I hear water running as I walk through the door.

It turns out this guestroom has its own bathroom. Just how many bathrooms does Madge's house have? Annis has turned on a shower for me. She points out the buttons for soap and shampoo and I have an unwelcome flashback to Peeta's interview when he joked with Caesar about the perils of the Capitol showers. I do not want to end up smelling like roses. Not when I'll be in the mines tomorrow. With _miners._

I look longingly at the sink, wishing there were a bar of soap. I could just wash up at the sink and no one would know the difference, right?

"In the shower, no excuses," Annis orders, suddenly sounding like my mother. "You're to strip off every stitch of clothing and deposit them into this chute," she opens a slot on the wall. "It goes directly to the laundry. I'll take your boots now."

Ugh, this had better be worth it. I hope Madge comes home soon. I unlace my boots and hand them over. "You want me to throw my clothes down a chute?" I ask dubiously.

"I'll leave a change of clothes for you on the bed. Every stitch goes down the chute, or I will come back for them before you are out of the shower," she threatens.

I put my hands up in defeat, "Ok, ok. Clothes down the chute. I got it."

She takes my boots and leaves me alone in the bathroom, which is getting warm and steamy. I know it is July, but it wasn't this hot outside. I slowly start to undress, feeling really exposed in this room which sports mirrors on the back of the door, over the sink and on two walls. The wall with the shower is the only non-mirrored one.

I open the chute cautiously, peering into the darkness before casting my clothes downward into the shaft. They don't make a sound as they disappear into the pit of blackness. I better get these back before I leave. They'll still be wet and that will be hard enough to sneak by my mother without her noticing. Never mind if I show up in somebody else's clothes. Whose clothes are they going to give me, anyway? I must be six inches taller than Mayor Undersee.

The steam from the shower is obscuring my reflection in the mirrors, I am thankful to see. I am now mostly an unidentifiable silhouette of a man. We only have a single mirror above the sink in our bathroom, and I have never seen my whole, naked body reflected in a mirror, never mind in several mirrors from several angles at once. It is just plain weird. Who thinks this is a good idea? I turn away, eyeing the shower again.

How hot is that water if it is steaming up the mirrors? I open the glass door and cautiously stick my hand under the running water. It is hot and I pull back momentarily before putting it under again. Hot, but it doesn't exactly hurt. I step closer, putting my whole arm in the stream. It is actually a nice feeling, similar to the feeling you get from being close to a fire on a cold winter day.

Finally, I step completely in and pull the door shut behind me, allowing the hot water to hit my shoulders, streaming down my back and legs. I watch the water swirling around my feet, noticing the grey color from the soot. Apparently, even under my clothes it accumulates. I tilt my head back, getting my hair wet for a minute before looking back down at my feet. Now the water is even darker.

After a few minutes I begin to relax in the small, steamy booth, the warm water beating a tattoo onto my back as I stretch my neck. I look at the wall of buttons; imagining what scents might come from each. I decide on a green button on the top row, holding my breath as I push it in. A green foam that smells like pine squirts onto my head. Pine. Excellent, I can live with that. My mother might not even notice if I smell like the woods. I work it into my hair, wondering what my hair will look like with the coal dust washed out by this fancy shampoo before having a disquieting thought. Green. It is _green_. Will it turn my hair green like some Capitol freak? Alarmed, I quickly rinse it out of my hair and jump out of the shower to check. Wiping my hands frantically across the nearest mirror, I look at my hair closely. It looks normal. Like my hair. Black.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I climb back into the shower to wash the rest of my body. Maybe I should pick one close to my skin color for the body wash, just to be safe. A light pink button seems to be the closest to my skin color. Pink? My skin is not normally pink, is it? I look at the rest of the buttons. Pink could be the roses Peeta complained of, or the roses might be the red button. I decide to test the pink. I back myself into the corner and push it quickly as a small amount of pink foam squirts across the stall. I wipe if off of the wall and smell it. A light, fruity smell. I can live with this, too, I decide. I move back to the center and push the button fully.

The pink foam shoots out of every wall, completely covering my chest, arms and back in its fruity fragrance. I wash it off as quickly as possible, watching the bubbles trail down my legs, over my feet and into the drain before turning off the shower.

I wouldn't mind a nap after all of that. I look at the fluffy white towels lining the shelf. Nothing in District Twelve is ever this white. I wipe off the nearest mirror with one of the impossibly white towels, looking myself over to make sure I am totally clean before patting myself off with it. I don't want to risk ruining one of these ridiculously plush towels with overlooked coal dust. I am certain I have never been so clean in my life. I wrap the towel around my waist and return to the bedroom, finding the promised clothes on the bed.

I pull on the pants, which are a good six inches too short and so loose at the waist they slide down onto my hips. The shirt I get one arm into, but I know my shoulders will never fit into it without ripping. This shirt might fit Rory.

I toss the shirt onto the bed, sitting down next to it. And, I feel totally ridiculous. There is no way I can leave this room dressed in nothing but an ill-fitting pair of pants. I should have gone home.

I walk around the room, examining everything. I have never had the chance to compare the differences of the Seam houses to a town house before. Everything from the windows to the floors are made from finer materials and to superior standards of design. The windows are so well-sealed no sounds from outside can be heard. No bird songs. No sounds of children playing.

My explorations are interrupted by Annis knocking on the door. Finally! Maybe she can find me something else to wear, or just give me back my clothes. I pull open the door and look down into Madge's upturned face.

"Madge!" I say, surprised. It is too early for her to be home from school. I was certain it had to be the maid. "You're home early," I observe.

"Gale," she squeaks, her eyes widening in surprise as she notices I am standing in front of her. Half-naked. "Mother sent for me to come home early. I was afraid she was having one of her bad days."

"I'm sorry you were worried. She seems like she is having a good day." I back into the room, awkwardly picking up the discarded shirt. "Your mother insisted I wait for you."

She steps into the room after me looking around, nervously. "Yes. She told me you were upset about the highlights."

"Yes, how did she know? I didn't tell her why I came."

She looks away, clearly embarrassed. "She is very intuitive. She knows Katniss is your friend and she knows better than anyone how hard it is when someone close to you is in the Games."

"Oh," I answer. Of course she would understand.

She looks suddenly alarmed, coming towards me, reaching for my hands. "Your hands," she whispers, lifting them and looking at my blistered hands in concern. The blisters broke in the hot shower and washed away the blood, but she looks like she wants to cry.

"They're fine, Madge. Much better than a few days ago, really. The shower helped," I explain.

"I'll get you some bandages and ointment for them," she says softly, turning away and dropping my hands.

"No, Madge. I don't need any bandages. They will heal as they are. I need the calluses they will leave."

Suddenly Madge turns to me, flushed with anger. Or embarrassment? She points to the shirt in my hands. "Fine. Would you please put on your shirt, Gale?" she sputters. "Katniss is my friend, but I am _only human_, you know."

I look at Madge's flushed face in surprise. She is more than just embarrassed. She finds me attractive? Or distracting. "I'm sorry Madge. The shirt is too small. I think it will rip if I force it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I…I didn't realize. I just thought…I'll find…find you something else," she stammers, turning to leave.

"Madge, wait."

She turns back to me, even redder than before.

"What did you think?" Why did I ask her that? I was going to ask her to get me my clothes.

"Nothing, I'm sorry. It was stupid," she moves to leave again, but I put my hand on her shoulder to halt her escape.

I turn her to face me. Now I need to know. "You are not stupid. What were you thinking?"

She studies her shoes- or my toes- refusing to look up. "I thought you were teasing me. Because you could tell I was embarrassed."

"I'm sorry, Madge. I wasn't teasing you. I just don't have anything else to wear," I tell her sincerely.

She looks up at me, sweet and vulnerable. "I'm sorry, too. I should have known better." She looks towards my ill-fitting pants with a crooked smile. "I'll find you something better to wear. I'm glad you came," she says breathlessly before pulling away and disappearing down the hall.

Annis arrives a few minutes later with a lunch tray for me, which I eat while waiting for Madge to return. Ten minutes later she reappears with a pair of blue denim pants, a green short sleeve pullover shirt, underwear and socks. She waits outside while I slip them on. This time everything fits.

I join her in the hall, and she smiles at me. "A definite improvement," she says with a laugh as we start down the hall.

I resist the urge to tease her about finding me half-naked distracting. "Thanks. Much more comfortable." For both of us, apparently.

When we get to the living room it is three pm, about the time she should be getting home. She walks straight to the TV and turns it on. The announcers are excitedly recapping the morning's events as they show us a shortened version of what has happened so far in the arena today.

We sit tensely on the couch as we watch the morning unfold.

Katniss looks at the fleeing animals in confusion before recognizing the danger their flight implies. She looks around, seeing the wall of fire quickly closing in on her. She fumbles with her belt, releasing the buckle and falling to the ground still tangled in her sleeping bag. She scrambles out of it, tosses it over her shoulder and flees in the direction the animals have gone.

She is almost immediately outdistanced by the swift-footed animals. Surrounded by smoke, flames and falling branches, she is running blindly. A tree falls at her side, showering her with sparks.

The scene switches to little Rue fleeing the flames by _jumping_ from tree to tree, the flames closing in fast.

Katniss jumps over a log, her jacket catching fire. Madge chokes back a strangled cry. Katniss has to stop, ripping it off to stamp out the flames. I want to scream at her to leave the stupid jacket.

As Madge screams in horror, the announcers are screaming in hilarity at the "Girl on Fire." Only Madge's presence manages to keep me from screaming obscenities at the TV.

The scene switches to the Careers running to outdistance the flames. They are not nearly as fast as Katniss, but the wall of fire doesn't seem to be chasing them as aggressively. More like herding them in the direction the Gamemakers want them to go. The audience must have been getting bored, so they are using the fire to flush out the hiders and herd them towards the Careers.

We see Rue stopped in a tree, gasping from the smoke. She needs to get out of the tree. The air will be cleaner on the ground. Smoke rises and if the arena's force field completely encases the arena it will trap the smoke in as well, suffocating anyone hiding up in the trees. Suddenly a fireball grazes Rue's arm and she falls from her perch. Apparently suffocation is not on the program for today. She lies dazed at the foot of the tree. Completely at the mercy of the flames or the Careers.

We see Ginger from Five and the boy from Ten running through the woods, but they are not surrounded by flames like the others. They are clearly further away.

We see Katniss again, coughing. Vomiting. The heavy smoke is poisoning her. She crawls underneath an outcropping of rocks to take cover, quickly rearranging her pack, stuffing the sleeping bag into it and settling the pack back on her shoulders. After barely a minute a fireball blasts into the rock directly above her head and she takes off running again.

Fireballs are now aggressively attacking both Katniss and the Careers. They must be close to each other if they are both within range of the launchers. Katniss runs zigzagging, diving and leaping to avoid the flaming projectiles.

She stumbles, vomiting again. It is suddenly quiet. The wall of flames is no longer advancing. Has she outdistanced the flame-throwers? Or is she about to confront the Careers?

A final fireball skims her leg, setting her pant leg on fire. Madge screams and suddenly I am holding her, tucking her head into my shoulder as I do Posy, running my hand up and down her back, soothingly.

Katniss rolls, trying to put out her flaming pants. She rips the burning leg off with her bare hands, flinging it away. She is shaking, but manages to pull herself to her feet and limp away from the wall of fire. We're both having trouble with pants today, I think randomly.

After a few minutes she stumbles upon a bubbling brook, falls to her knees and plunges her hands into the water. I can see the relief on her face as she takes a deep breath. I sigh in relief, as well. In the arena you can never be sure things are as they appear. That innocent bubbling brook could easily have been some horrible Gamemaker trap.

Madge sits up with an apologetic smile as Katniss lies on her stomach dangling her burned hands in the water. _What about your leg, Katniss?_

Rue is nearby, still in a daze from her fall. The Careers have wandered off in the other direction.

Katniss washes the blood and ash from her face before finally sitting up and pulling her leg in front of her to examine.

Katniss is not good with injuries. She always flees the house when her mother has badly injured patients to deal with. She looks ready to faint when she sees her leg. _Don't give in to it, Catnip. You can do this!_

She soaks her leg and it appears to bring some relief. She repeatedly removes her leg and each time immediately submerges it again. She reorders her gear and refills her water bottle. Drinks.

Annis brings us a snack and Mrs. Undersee joins us as we watch Katniss dig up some roots and eat her leftover rabbit, with her leg still submerged. Why doesn't Haymitch send her some medicine for her burns? She must have some sponsors. Is burn medicine too expensive on day four? What is he saving her sponsor money for?

Katniss is resting by the tree and the Careers are resting and patching themselves up as well. Most of them are burned, and all but Peeta have received at least one silver parachute from their sponsors. Just what is Haymitch doing? Is he passed out drunk somewhere or does he just not give a damn?

It is nearly time for the Mandatory Viewing to start, so I decide to head home. My mother will be expecting me to be home from work before it starts. After I thank Madge and Mrs. Undersee, Annis hands me my boots and it dawns on me. I am wearing the borrowed clothes. She hands me a bag containing my clean work clothes. They are dry, much to my surprise. Madge explains they have an automatic "dryer" which dries clothes almost instantly. It's a good thing most people don't have machines to do their laundry or my mother would be out of a job. Of course, her customers couldn't use machines even if they owned them. They need electricity to work, and electricity is so sporadic in the Seam it simply isn't practical to rely on machines.

Mrs. Undersee tells me to keep the clothes I am wearing, since they won't fit anyone else. I politely refuse and go change back into my clothes. I give them to Madge, who folds the clothes and puts them into a drawer in the guest room.

"If you ever need to come over straight from work again they will be waiting for you," she tells me, turning around.

I have a drawer at Madge's. Well, at least I won't have to explain to my mother why I am wearing different clothes than when I left for work this morning. "Thanks Madge. You're a great friend."

"You're welcome. Anytime ." There's an odd tone to her voice.

By the time I get home the Mandatory Viewing has already started. My mother is frantic that I have missed the beginning. I don't bother to tell her that I have already watched two extra hours of the Games today. Of course, eagle-eyed Hazelle Hawthorne misses nothing about her children. Ever.

She prods me into the kitchen, asking where I was all day if I wasn't at work. That gets the attention of everyone in the room: my family and the Everdeens. Before I can answer she flicks the collar of my too-clean shirt saying, "You smell like strawberries! Perfumed strawberries, not wild ones."

I find myself blushing, which perks up Rory's ears, "Perfumed strawberries?" he says hopefully. Rory loves a good story. Especially embarrassing ones.

"I went to see Madge after the highlights, to see if she knew anything. She was still at school, but Mrs. Undersee insisted I stay to watch the Games." I turn towards Mrs. Everdeen and Prim, "They get more coverage than we do. The highlights were frightening, but she is alive. She survived the flames with only minor burns. When I left Madge's she was resting under a tree, soaking her leg in a brook."

Everyone takes in what I said as the evening program gets into full swing and I prepare to watch Katniss being chased and attacked by flames again. My mother isn't so easily distracted. "Strawberries?" She touches my cheek and my hair. "You haven't smelled this sweet or been this clean since you were a baby, Gale," she says softly.

Time to fess up. "Mrs. Undersee insisted I take a shower in a guest bathroom while their maid washed my clothes," I admit sheepishly.

She gives me a proper dressing down about how shameful it is for one of her children to show up at anyone else's house so straight-from-the-mines-filthy that they are required to bathe and wash their clothes before entering. Then she proceeds to get my dinner and we sit down to watch.

When Katniss looks about to faint upon examining her wound Mrs. Everdeen pronounces it "not too bad."

As she soaks her leg Prim is trying to tell her to find something to treat her burns "Chickweed! Or mushrooms! Even birch leaves would help with the pain."

"She is doing the best thing, Prim," Mrs. Everdeen reassures her. "Water is the best medicine for now."

The sun arcs across sky and Katniss falls asleep with her leg submerged in the brook. _No Katniss! You cannot stay out there! You are way too exposed. The Careers are way too close! _"She needs to move!" I say in mounting frustration.

"She can't. She needs to keep the water on that burn," Mrs. Everdeen is comforting _me_, now. We'll get through this together, like I promised her the first day.

Evening is falling in the arena. The Careers are closing in and Katniss is still asleep. _WAKE UP!_ I begin to pace. They spot her, pointing her out and high fiving each other. It is a good thing they are so loud when they start to move. Especially Peeta, he must be stepping on every branch and kicking every rock he comes near as they try to sneak up on her. Her hunter's instincts alert her from her stupor even before they crash through the underbrush.

Up and running in an instant, she splashes across the pool and disappears into the trees. Even injured, she outpaces them easily. _Go Katniss! Go!_

As they chase her, it is obvious they were not unaffected by the smoke and flames. They are coughing and short of breath. Their voices are raspy.

She finds a tall, slim tree and quickly begins to climb. Ouch, that's got to hurt her burnt hands.

They reach the tree she is in. Is this going to be the end? Six against one. Or at least five against one. Or maybe even five against two? I find it hard to believe the boy who held Willow's hand the other day, the boy who said he loved Katniss on national television, the boy who _swore_ to me he could never hurt Katniss, will be the one to kill her. But he is there. Only one comes home. He _may_ stand by and watch them kill her. I _may_ be sick.

Was the whole star-crossed lovers bit no more than an angle? Has he been playing to the sponsors all along? Maybe it has all been a lie. The crush. The announcement. The one "perfect" night. Announcing to the Careers that they could never kill each other. No, I know the crush is true. On his side, at least. The rest could be lies. Especially the one perfect night. Katniss wouldn't have done that, would she?

But, announcing to the Careers that he couldn't kill her was a risky move. They could have killed him on the spot. Why did he risk it? Did he think it made him more believable to them? That he didn't suddenly claim he didn't care if she died? He could have told them it was all an angle for the sponsors, or to get her to trust him. Of course, then all of the sponsors would have known it was an angle, too. So, he had to keep playing it. For the sponsors. Even if it is an angle. Was an angle. I am thinking geometrically, I think randomly. Traps. Snares. Strategies. Sponsors.

Of course, who gives a damn about the sponsors? It hasn't done either of them a bit of good. Neither one of them has received a single sponsor gift.

Of course, even if it _wasn't_ an angle, devotion only goes so far in the Hunger Games. I didn't think he was a contender in these Games - but I was clearly wrong. And, Katniss has no idea just how dangerous he is.

The other five are excited to have her treed. They are grinning and talking excitedly, despite their obvious injuries from the fire. She is clearly their number one target. Just as the Gamemakers intended. She's outnumbered and they have superior weapons. Just as the Gamemakers intended. What did she do to get that eleven, I find myself wondering.

Prim is weeping in her mother's arms. Mrs. Everdeen is handling this better than I could have hoped given her state on the first day.

The only advantage I can see is Katniss' weight. Even the girl Careers are much sturdier and heavier than she. And, _no one_ climbs like my Catnip. I sometimes joke she is part squirrel.

She smiles down at them. "How's everything with you?" she calls cheerfully. We all laugh a little. If she is feeling well enough to play to the cameras, that is a good sign. A very good sign. Most tributes treed by the Career pack would have given up by now. But, not my Catnip.

"Well enough," answers Cato in faux politeness. "Yourself?"

"It's been a bit warm for my taste" she smiles. "The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?" she challenges.

Prim gasps.

"Don't worry, Prim. They are all too heavy to climb as high as she can," I assure her.

"Think I will," Cato answers.

"Here, take this, Cato," offers the sexpot from One, holding out the bow and arrows. Katniss looks ready to spit nails, seeing Glimmer with _her_ bow. She throws a venomous glance at Peeta, who is studiously ignoring her, polishing his knife on his shirt. He doesn't want to be the one kill her, but he isn't going to help her, either. After all, this is the Hunger Games. And, only one goes home.

"No," says Cato, refusing the bow. "I'll do better with my sword," he says as he hoists himself into the tree. Does he really think he is going to be able to climb up as far as Katniss? He outweighs her by at least a hundred pounds.

Katniss climbs higher as soon as Cato makes the first branch. She is way up in the high branches when the branch Cato is on cracks, throwing him to the ground. Unfortunately, he is unhurt and jumps to his feet swearing a blue streak, causing Posy to cover her ears before I even think to do so.

Glimmer takes a turn climbing the tree. She has a better chance than Cato, but she is also much bigger than Katniss and clearly doesn't have any experience climbing trees. The branches are bending more than they should because she isn't staying close enough to the trunk. She stops and decides to try shooting the bow. She awkwardly nocks an arrow. If she can manage to get off a decent shot while balanced precariously on a sagging branch I'll be amazed.

Sure enough, she misses several times. One of the arrows lands close enough for Katniss to retrieve, which she does, waving it tauntingly above their heads. If only she had that bow she could pick them all off. Including _Lover Boy_.

Glimmer climbs down, embarrassed at having failed. The Careers argue about how to go about getting to her while the twilight fades.

Finally Peeta shouts, "Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning." Okay, what is his strategy, here? A delaying strategy. He shouted loud enough for her to hear him. That was no accident, either. He_ knows_ Katniss practically lives in the woods outside the fence of District Twelve. Does he think she does have a chance of getting away while they sleep? Could he be buying her time to figure out a way? Why would he do that? He knows that only one can win. Saving her doesn't benefit him in any way. Is he playing to their sponsors? Playing up the star crossed lovers' angle? He'll need to be a hell of a lot more obvious if that is his idea. Of course he can't be obvious without the Careers catching on, too.

Or, is it possible that this isn't an angle after all? Is he really hoping she will find a way to escape? Why? _One perfect night_.

I put Posy in my mother's lap and pace back and forth again. How is she going to get out of this armed with only a knife? She is treed by the Careers. She has to get down without being noticed. What are the odds their watch will fall asleep and not hear her climb down? What else can she do? I rack my brain for ideas, inventorying the contents of her pack in my mind. She has matches. Is there anything she could set on fire and drop on them, causing a diversion? Her sleeping bag, maybe? Unlikely she could target it well enough through the branches to even guarantee hitting one of them, never mind taking them all out.

The coil of wire: great for setting snares or even garroting someone; but from fifty or sixty feet up in a tree?

Katniss is trying to find a comfortable perch for the night, but it is obvious she is in pain. She is restless. Suddenly she sits up, staring in fright at the tree next to her. A small, dark hand reaches out of the tree next to her and points to something above her head.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note

Hopefully this chapter isn't too unfocused and rambling. I had surgery this week and I'm on some pretty heavy painkillers :)

**Word of the day: **

Tattoo has two general meanings. My teenage daughter didn't know this, so I thought I'd share. No, Gale didn't have a design beat into his back in the shower.

**tat·too**** 1** (t-t)

_n._ _pl._ **tat·toos**

**1. **A signal sounded on a drum or bugle to summon soldiers or sailors to their quarters at night.

**2. **A display of military exercises offered as evening entertainment.

**3. **A continuous, even drumming or rapping.

_v._ **tat·tooed**, **tat·too·ing**, **tat·toos**

To beat out an even rhythm, as with the fingers.

To beat or tap rhythmically on; rap or drum on.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Thanks so much to all of my awesome reviewers! Each and every review is truly appreciated and read many, many times! I love to hear what resonates with my readers as well as anything you'd like to see or any mistakes I may have made.

This chapter is dedicated to **Ellenka** who has reviewed each and every chapter and given me some great tips and advice via PM's as well. Enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Games Day 4, Friday Evening**

"Oooh, look! A tracker jacker nest!" squeals the high pitched voice of the green-haired female announcer as the camera pans to the branches above Katniss' head. Damn. Tracker jackers. Katniss pales; she doesn't need the announcers to tell her what it is.

The dark hand, that must have been little Rue. Why is she up there alerting Katniss to the nest? Why help Katniss? How did she know it was there?

Can Katniss use this to her advantage? Normally, we avoid their nests at all costs. But the Capitol might have unwittingly provided her with a weapon. If only she can figure out a way to use it; without getting herself killed in the process. If she can dislodge it, she _could_ take out the Careers- or maybe a couple of them. It should at least create enough of a diversion to allow her to escape. Except, the tracker jackers will track her down and kill her for disturbing their nest; _if_ they can tell she did it.

But- she is wounded and trapped- this is her best chance, realistically. At the very least, if she gets the nest free, she could take out a few of the Careers with her. But, s_he is not going to die. _

The announcers give us a little lesson on tracker jackers. A single sting causes severe pain and swelling, followed within minutes by intense hallucinations. Most people will die from as few as four or five stings. Some people die from one. If they live, the hallucinations can drive them into madness. The girls will all be more susceptible to the venom because of their smaller size. Katniss is probably forty pounds lighter than even the smallest Career and if she disturbs their nest they will attack her en masse. _But,_ s_he is not going to die._

Katniss is looking from the nest and off into the trees, formulating a plan. She fingers the blade of her knife. She makes her decision and gingerly climbs up to the nest. She, too, realizes this is her best chance. _Good girl._ _You can do this, Catnip._

As she reaches the branch from which the nest is suspended, she pauses, listening. The announcers are abuzz with speculation. Katniss looks surprised and a small smile appears on her face. What is she smiling about? I know that smile. She has figured something out.

The Capitol seal appears in the sky as the anthem begins. They show us a three split screen: the Seal; Katniss gritting her teeth quickly sawing away at the branch; and the Careers, unsuspecting at the foot of the tree as they watch the sky.

The announcers are amazed the tracker jackers haven't responded to her sawing. Yes. Very strange. Why aren't they reacting?

The anthem ends and Katniss stops sawing on the branch. She doesn't want to give away her plan. She needs to take them by surprise for this to work. The anthem is short tonight. No deaths today, despite the fire. But, plenty of excitement to keep the viewers entertained.

It is now completely dark in the arena, except for the light given off by the Careers' torches. She makes her way back down to her sleeping bag, finding a silver parachute attached to a small jar waiting for her. _It's about time, Haymitch! _

She looks like an excited little girl on her birthday as she opens the jar. She smells it before sticking a finger in. "Oh, Haymitch," she whispers adoringly, "Thank you."

She spreads the ointment, I assume, over the burn on her calf and the relief she feels is so evident on her face that I am nearly brought to tears myself in relief- her relief or mine? We are as one. She applies it to her hands as well before she tucks the jar safely away in her pack and settles in for the night.

Prim and her mother are talking excitedly about the sponsor gift, speculating about what kind of ointment it was and how quickly it might heal her burns.

Obviously, she has decided to wait until morning to finish her attack on the Careers. Time for the medicine to heal her burns? Time for the Careers to fall asleep and be unprepared? Time for her to be rested enough to escape? Probably a combination of factors.

They show us the Careers settling in for the night, arranging who takes the first watch. The smoke is still wafting around the forest. Of course, the _smoke!_ Smoke subdues wasps and bees. That must be what she realized when she got close to the nest. Will they be subdued enough in the morning to allow her to finish? Is she waiting so they will be more alert and ready to attack? That is a more terrifying thought.

**Games Day 5, Saturday**

_As I arrive at our special place, I see her. Katniss. Victor of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. My Catnip. She is finally home! "Katniss!" I call._

_She looks up and smiles at me before she throws herself into my arms, laughing. I spin her around as we laugh in our shared delight. Reunited. I put her down and take her face gently in my hands, drinking in every familiar detail. Running my fingers over her cheeks, my thumbs trace her lips. I feel her warm breath on my fingers._

_The feel of her skin under my fingers, the smell of our forest surrounding us, the feel of my heart beating in my chest, the love I see radiating from her eyes; I will remember this moment forever. Having her here with me- actually in my arms- leaves me breathless. This is the way it is supposed to be. How much time have we wasted getting to this point?_

"_I missed you, Gale," she says as she snuggles tightly against my chest, her arms encircling my waist._

_I tilt her head back so that I can continue to drink in the reality of having her here with me. "I missed you, too, Catnip," I smile at the dreamy look on her face. "But, I have to ask. What was all that star-crossed lovers nonsense about?"_

_She laughs up at me, shaking her head, "That was an act. Peeta and Haymitch angling for sponsors."_

"_And Peeta? How did you feel about him?"_

"_He was just the boy tribute from District Twelve. Gale, you must know I will never love anyone but you," she says._

_I smile delightedly down at her, "Say it again."_

"_I love you, Gale. You and only you," she vows._

"_I love you too," I slide one hand along her jaw, through her hair to the back of her head as I hold her close with my other arm around her waist. She closes her eyes and tilts her lips up to mine. So soft. So sweet. She slides her hands up my chest and around my neck. Offering her first kiss to me. The one she loves. The only one she will ever love._

I wake up in a state of blissful euphoria, remembering my day with Katniss in the forest, before the crushing realization hits me. It was a dream. It was only a dream. Katniss isn't the Victor. Not yet. She is still in the arena. Treed by the Careers. This is only day five and she has been close to death four times already.

I roll out of bed and get ready for work as I try to imagine how today is going to unfold. The highlights at work are going to be torturous, I'm sure.

When I get to work, I am the focus of unusual attention. I don't have to wonder why for long. Before we have alighted from the elevator Thom and Jax are giving me a hard time.

"Hawk, why do you smell like a Townie girl?" Jax laughs, leaning in towards me and taking an exaggerated sniff. This draws a round of raucous laughter from the others.

"How would you know what a Townie girl smells like, Jax? It's not as if you've ever been near enough to actually smell one," I shoot back.

"Oooh, touchy, are we?" Thom needles.

"Doesn't your mother make you bathe occasionally?" I ask the general group.

"Yeah. Sure. Most Saturday nights, so I am clean on my day off. Not _Friday_," Jax points out helpfully.

"And, not with perfumed soap! Who even buys perfumed soap?" Thom laughs.

Ugh. Why wasn't there a soap labeled coal dust and sweat in Madge's shower? I ignore them as we get our assignments for the morning and head down into the tunnels.

Bristel chooses this moment to add _her_ two cents, "Sounds like Hawk has found himself a new Townie girlfriend. One who likes," she leans close, "_strawberries._"

Hawk. The nickname I got a couple of years ago when I was routinely kissing nearly every girl in the school. Well, every girl who was interested in kissing. Which was quite a few. The hawk is a predatory hunting bird, but I have never preyed on the innocent. Those too young to know what they are doing. Hawk's a play on my name, my known hunting skills and my supposed ability to charm seemingly any girl into my orbit. It seems to have stuck. I don't like it. I don't think.

"Bristel, it is none of your business who my girlfriends are, or what kind of soap I use," I snap.

Collier, the crew leader, comes over then, ending the bickering, "Okay, ladies. Let's get to work. You can speculate on Hawk's love life on your own time."

~Saturday Highlights~

A branch crashing through the lower limbs of a tree. A nest smashing open, releasing a swarm of angry tracker jackers. Chaos. Screaming. Yelling. A bloated body twitching on the ground. A bow at her side. _Not Katniss_. _No, she didn't have the bow. District One had the bow_. Peeta and Cato running through the woods, weapons drawn. Peeta crashing through the trees, a spear poised to launch. At Katniss. Katniss crouched on the ground. Holding the bow. Watching as Peeta charges her with the spear.

The tunnels are silent as the screen fades to black. I am once again the center of attention. Everyone here knows Katniss is my best friend. They remember my earlier outbursts. Collier is looking at me in concern, obviously wondering if he is going to need to send me home once again.

Curiously, I am not as upset as I was yesterday. It doesn't take me long to figure out why. They always edit the highlights for maximum impact. They _want_ us to think Peeta speared Katniss. That much is obvious. So, I know it isn't true. If it were, they wouldn't have shown us that much in the highlights. I say as much to the pitying faces around me. They look at me sympathetically. They don't believe me. They think I am grasping at straws. I'm not. This is how the Capitol works. They still don't believe me. I don't need them to. I know it's true. I am at peace.

After we have been back at work for a few hours, Collier pulls me aside and we go up to the surface. He warns me to keep my opinions about how the Capitol works to myself. "Even here in the mines they have informants," he warns me.

"What are they going to do to me? I'm not saying anything everyone here doesn't already know. It's not as if I'm inciting a rebellion," I say in an undertone. Even though we are not near anyone, this is obviously not a conversation we can risk being overheard.

"Gale," he puts a hand on my shoulder. "You have to understand something. They know the mines are fertile ground. They've been known to arrange _accidents_ for miners they believe are a threat." There is a serious undercurrent in his words.

"_Accidents?_ You mean like my father's accident?" Something is boiling just under the surface. Rage? Excitement? Expectation? Rebellion! I have often wondered if it really _was_ an accident. After all, what were the odds that a single accident would take out my father and Katniss' father when they weren't even in the same crew? Two of the very few men who flaunted authority by regularly hunting outside the fence. It seems _too_ convenient to have been an accident. He's probably going to deny it, or say he doesn't know.

"Yes. I can't prove it. But I never believed it was an accident," he surprises me by confirming my long-held suspicions.

"My father was a rebel?" Excitement. Rage. A rebellion. The Capitol _killed_ my father. Directly. Targeted him.

"The Capitol thought he was," he says cagily, neither confirming nor denying. "He was a natural leader. Men looked to him. He was a lightning rod."

"So, you are telling me I need to be more careful than most? The Capitol might be watching me?" Given this, it is even more surprising I wasn't reaped. This was their last chance to get me out of the way easily. I have often suspected the reapings to be fixed. But, not this year, apparently. Peeta certainly isn't a threat to them. Nor is Prim. Not like me. Or Katniss. Wait- was Katniss' father also a rebel? They reaped Prim. Did they know Katniss would volunteer? No. No one volunteered in Twelve in my lifetime before Katniss.

"Yes. You're just like your father. The men will follow you. When the Capitol figures that out, you could meet with an accident, just as your father did."

"If I didn't feel so trapped. So powerless. So _useless_. Then it would be easier to be… guarded." We are dancing around the subject. We both know it. But, one cannot be too careful when there is so much at stake. A rebellion. A chance to overthrow the government. To put an end to the Games. The certainty that this conversation would certainly get us both killed.

"I understand. Don't draw unnecessary attention to yourself. You are more dangerous than they know. If they don't realize you have any concerns beyond providing for your family. This is a long game."

I nod in understanding. There _is_ a rebellion in Twelve. And I have just been recruited.

When I get home, Rory is waiting for me on the steps, looking troubled.

"Hey, Rory. What's up?"

"Hey, Gale. Prim has to go to the square tonight."

"They're making the families go tonight?" I ask in surprise. This isn't good. They want to see their reactions to the star-crossed lovers turning on each other? Do they want a riot on their hands? If I were in charge, I wouldn't have _anyone_ in the square tonight. Idiots.

He nods. "I'm going with her," he informs me.

"Okay. What did Mom say?" I ask.

"She said she'd ask you what you thought when you got home."

I go inside and talk over the situation with Mom. We decide to have her stay home with Vick and Posy. Rory and I will go with the Everdeens. I don't want the little ones there if things get out of hand tonight. Even though I do _not_ believe Peeta killed Katniss, there is going to be a lot of tension in the square tonight.

~Mandatory Viewing, Saturday night in the square~

As we arrive and sign in, it is immediately evident that the mood is _beyond_ tense. Edgy. Overstrung. As unpredictable as an overstrung bow, which might snap at the least strain. There are two groups of boys who look as if they are about to come to blows arguing over Peeta hurting Katniss. They have bought completely into the Capitol's propaganda highlights. I'd be more surprised if Katniss didn't shoot Peeta rather than him spearing her. She did have the bow...

I lean down to speak quietly to Mrs. Everdeen. She and Prim already know my firm opinion that Peeta didn't hurt Katniss with that spear. I think they agree with me. Or they hope I am right. We need to do something to ease the tension. I suggest she and Prim speak to the Mellarks.

The Mellarks look uncomfortably at the Everdeens when we arrive, but Prim goes right over to them, with her mother, Rory and me trailing behind. Mrs. Mellark takes an affronted step back, sneering at Primrose. I have never felt the desire to slap a woman before this moment. Mr. Mellark smiles warmly at Prim.

Mrs. Everdeen speaks first. "Oatis, I don't think Peeta intended to hurt Katniss," she says, addressing Mr. Mellark. Their exchange is the focus of the crowd's attention.

He looks so relieved at her words and it opens a floodgate, "Thank you, Lily. He didn't. He wouldn't hurt her. I know he wouldn't. Those boys he…killed. They were attacking him. But he wouldn't hurt Katniss. He couldn't."

"I know," she smiles before looking towards Mrs. Mellark. "Narcissa."

"Lily," Mrs. Mellark acknowledges coolly.

Mr. Mellark fills the awkward silence, "Lily, Do you know my older boys, Bannock and Rye?"

The introductions made, I am hoping the crowd takes their cue from the families. It isn't much, but hopefully it will help.

Rye Mellark is my age. He is basically my Townie counterpart. Handsome and popular. Adored by the girls and respected by the boys. We aren't really friends, but we know each other from school. I ask him to take a walk with me, hoping our easy, friendly demeanor will be noted. If Peeta's brother and Katniss' best friend aren't at war, then maybe others will realize they shouldn't be, either. I purposefully don't include Bannock. He is a hot-headed jerk. Takes after his mother.

I tell Rye about the groups of boys in the back of the crowd and we go in search of them. By this time, they have attracted the interest of the Peacekeepers, who apparently intend to actually _keep_ the peace in the square tonight. We engage the boys in conversation. Fortunately, we are both well-known enough to need no introductions. We get our point across, as they are markedly less hostile by the time Mayor Undersee announces it is time to take our seats.

I see Madge with her mother in the second row as I slip into my seat. Rory and I are in the front row with the Everdeens, as we were for the opening ceremonies. But, this is going to be so much worse. Having to watch her in danger. Fighting for her life. In front of hundreds of curious onlookers. And the cameras.

As the screens come to life, the crowd in Twelve settles into an uneasy silence. Peeta is the only member of the Career alliance awake as dawn approaches, even though they never left him on watch. He was awake all night, we are told. Glimmer is asleep on watch. If Cato finds out, she's dead. Peeta keeps looking up towards Katniss, expectantly. Hopefully. I guess he knows her well enough to expect her to make some sort of attempt this morning.

At dawn Katniss wakes, reapplies ointment to her calf, eats and packs her gear. She is going to have to move fast when it falls. How is she going to manage to climb down and get away from the angry swarm? Her only hope is really that the tracker jackers all go down with their nest and identify the Careers as their attackers when the nest hits the ground. Is Peeta going to sound the alarm when she starts? I guess this will be the test of their star-crossed lovers story.

Katniss calls out softly to Rue, who immediately appears and points again to the nest. Katniss nods and shows Rue her knife, making a sawing motion. Rue nods and disappears, travelling away from the area by jumping from tree to tree. Tree to tree!

I can imagine what the kids are saying at home. Vick proclaiming she should have gotten more than a seven for that skill and her ability to forage off of the land the way she has. He announces he would have given her a nine.

Posy is probably laughing. Insisting that she needs to learn how to do that, too. Sweet, innocent, little Posy. The idea of her ever needing to have the kinds of skills to survive in an arena make my blood run cold. Then hot. Maybe I should start training her.

Rory is intensely focused on the screens. He is holding Prim's hand in his. Prim and Rory. Both twelve. They each have six more reapings to endure as potential tributes. Rory might have a shot if he were reaped. His size alone will be an advantage when he is a little older.

My attention is drawn back to the screens as we see Katniss scramble quickly up the tree. The first rosy light of dawn streaks through the sky of the arena as she does. It is the same time of day that Willow died with Peeta holding her hand. Peeta held the hand of a girl he didn't even know to comfort her as she lay dying. What is he going to do now, with Katniss' life at stake? Certainly not spear her when she gets to the ground.

Katniss is about to resume cutting the branch when the camera focuses in on the nest, and on the single, gleaming, gold tracker jacker awake on its surface. She looks about to panic as she notices it_. Keep it together, Katniss. You can do this! You have to do this!_

She resolutely puts her knife into the groove and starts to saw away madly.

Peeta immediately perks up upon hearing the noise. He smiles secretly and rests back against the rock behind him, looking around at his sleeping allies. Alert while trying to appear relaxed. He looks casually up the tree across from him, obviously wondering what her plan is. But- he is not raising the alarm. He is not even moving himself out of range of whatever she has planned for them. Why not? Because any movement on his part might be enough to wake them? To alert them?

The announcers have come to the conclusion that Katniss and Peeta planned this together, somehow. That the star-crossed lovers planned to lead the Career pack into an ambush - totally preposterous! What kind of morons are they? If they were somehow able to communicate to plan an ambush, it certainly wouldn't have involved Katniss nearly burning to death and her being treed and needing to use a tracker jacker nest as a weapon of last resort. They are basing this on the fact that Peeta obviously knows she is up to something and he isn't sounding the alarm. Nor is he moving himself out of harm's way, they note.

Regardless of the impossibility of this having been an ambush, they are right about one thing: he is acting out of character for a Hunger Games tribute. The prime characteristic of a tribute is self-interest.

There have been many clues. Clues that some might miss. All small but significant clues. I tend to notice every detail. When hunting in the forest, noticing the smallest detail can mean the difference between an empty or a full belly. Between life and death. Peeta's actions have puzzled me since the interviews. I have been filing away a collection of his seemingly inconsistent actions and decisions to puzzle on later. I just don't have the time to focus on what it all means right now. _One perfect night_ and all the rest of it.

Katniss winces as she is stung on the knee, but continues to saw frantically. As the branch finally comes away she shoves it hard away from her and it crashes downward through the intervening limbs until it hits the ground, smashing open and releasing the swarm of tracker jackers on the unsuspecting Careers. And Peeta; who was not entirely unsuspecting, but who is now equally endangered. And the first to spring away.

We are cheering. She did it! There is a deafening roar in the square. But, not everyone is cheering. Team Peeta is upset she dropped the tracker jacker nest on him. But, it isn't as if she had a choice. This is the Hunger Games. No time to be concerned about anyone but yourself. If he hadn't been part of the pack who was hunting her, he wouldn't be in danger now.

She is stung twice more, but most of the tracker jackers went down with the nest and are targeting the Careers as she planned. Three stings. That is bad. _Very bad._ But not necessarily fatal.

She is clinging to the tree, wisely taking the time to pull the stingers out and watching the chaos unfold below. The Careers have awoken to a full blown tracker jacker attack. The nest broke open right in the middle of their circle. She couldn't have planned a better result.

The Careers are up and running in seconds. "To the lake! To the lake!" Peeta calls as he leads them away- away from Katniss- and they disappear into the trees, leaving _everything_ behind, even some of their own. Glimmer is shrieking wildly and swinging her bow at the swarm in a frenzy. She is stung half-a-dozen times, falling to the ground and twitching violently as her stings swell up to the size of baseballs. She is certain to die. The girl from Four, Marina, staggers into the trees and collapses from three stings. The same number as Katniss.

_The bow, Katniss! Get the bow! Get your bow! _I imagine the Capitol rues their plan to include a bow as an enticement, now.

As soon as they clear out, Katniss scrambles down the tree and runs in the opposite direction, back towards the pool she was soaking in last night. _Damn, she forgot the bow!_ How could she? She submerges herself for about five minutes before dragging herself back onto the rocks. Her stings are oozing a foul-looking green liquid. They are swollen and discolored. But she is safe for the moment. As safe as she can be. The tracker jackers all followed the Careers towards the lake.

Peeta and the three Careers who made it back to the lake are submerging themselves in the water, hoping to hide from the remainder of the swarm.

Katniss looks woozy and confused. The venom is definitely taking hold. All we can hope is that the Careers are equally affected and won't be able to hunt her down before she recovers. Except, we know Peeta confronts her with the spear. Suddenly, she staggers to her feet and bolts off back in the direction of the nest. _Back for your bow, Katniss?_ _Thinking straight now?_

She arrives back at the tree just as Glimmer's cannon fires. She drops to her knees beside Glimmer, who is grotesquely swollen and oozing the same foul-looking green liquid that is coming from Katniss' stings. She is completely unrecognizable as the pretty girl in the sheer golden dress from the interviews.

Yes. The bow. Katniss came back for the bow. _Good girl. You're going to need it to win._ _To come home._ She tries to pry it from Glimmer's swollen fingers, but they won't budge. She reaches for a rock (I tell Prim not to watch) and smashes Glimmer's fingers until the bow is free. She struggles with Glimmer's body for the sheath of arrows. She falls back, panting hysterically. She seems to be in the grip of a terrifying hallucination as she squeezes her eyes tightly shut.

Now that the tracker jacker attack has ended, the Careers pull themselves out of the lake. Cato and Peeta are arguing about going after Katniss. Each of them have been stung what the announcers estimate to be three times. Clove and Marvel are unconscious. The boy from Three is hovering nearby looking worried. Peeta contends the cannon had to be for Katniss. Cato insists on going back to check, since Glimmer and Marina are missing as well. He doesn't want to have to hunt Katniss down again, so he runs back towards where she is struggling to retrieve her bow. Peeta grabs a spear and follows Cato, quickly overtaking him. Peeta runs ahead of Cato, who seems to be hampered by his stings more than Peeta.

Okay, this has to be the moment from the highlights. Peeta will break through the woods with his spear. Is he really going to kill her? I don't think so. I really don't. But, he is probably hallucinating from the venom. Will he even recognize her? He seemed perfectly lucid arguing with Cato. I can't breathe. The square is nearly silent as we await what we all know is coming. Is the boy from town really going to spear the girl from the Seam? We may have a riot on our hands if he does. Or, actually, on the _Peacekeepers_ hands.

A second cannon fires, signaling the death of Marina from Four. This seems to spur Katniss back into action. She is struggling trying to turn Glimmer over when she suddenly throws her body over Glimmer's as a hovercraft retrieves Marina's body from nearby.

"Do this!" she says fiercely to herself as she finally manages to flip Glimmer's body over and free the sheath of arrows. _Good job, now get out of there! _But, I know she doesn't get away in time. It was clear in the highlights. She will be completely at Peeta's mercy, with Cato mere steps behind.

Katniss hears them coming and draws an arrow, but she is so disoriented she can't even nock it, much less fire it accurately.

Peeta crashes through the trees, running towards Katniss with his spear poised to throw. I can't breathe. I can't bear to look. But, I can't look away. He stops, looking shocked. Totally shocked. He drops his arm to his side. "What are you still doing here?" he hisses angrily.

She stares up at him in confusion. Okay. He didn't do it, I begin breathing again.

He turns his spear around and prods her hard with the shaft, "Are you mad? Get up! Get up!" he says frantically.

Cato is nearly upon them.

Peeta pulls her to her feet and shoves her towards the woods, making sure she has a grip on her bow. "Run!" he screams. _"Run!"_

Cato slashes through the remaining brush as Katniss finally flees back the way she came. But, it is too late. Cato has seen her, despite one eye being swollen shut from a sting. He snarls at Peeta, as he gives chase to Katniss. Peeta gives chase and trips him with his spear. Why didn't he just spear Cato in the back? I want to scream. Overly focused on helping Katniss escape, he has missed his opportunity to kill Cato. But, he has delayed Cato's pursuit long enough for her to be out of sight. He didn't kill her. He didn't let Cato kill her.

Cato scrambles to his feet, turning on Peeta, "You let her get away!" he screams, lunging at Peeta. Peeta sidesteps Cato's charge, but loses his spear in the process. They are both stumbling about, obviously hallucinating and disoriented. Cato swings his sword at Peeta several times, backing the unarmed Peeta up against a tree. "I'm going to kill you, Lover Boy! And then I am going to kill _her!"_

There are wails of pain and distress coming from the crowd behind me.

Peeta sweeps his leg and takes Cato down to the ground, causing him to lose his sword in the process. They roll around, first one, then the other, seeming to have the advantage. Cato breaks Peeta's hold, rolls away and grabs his sword from the ground, slashing it across Peeta's thigh, drawing a howl of pain from him.

Cato sways to his feet and stumbles back into the trees in the direction of the Career's camp. He isn't giving chase to Katniss! And, he didn't finish off Peeta. He must be in bad shape.

The crowd in Twelve is in an uproar. Some cheering that Katniss got away. Some in tears that Peeta is injured. Some in silent shock trying to process the enormity of what just happened.

Peeta manages to stagger to his feet and follow in the direction Katniss fled. He is bleeding heavily and she has a long head start. He'll never catch her. When he reaches the brook she crossed he stops to splash water on his wound. He looks about ready to pass out from the pain and loss of blood. He gets back to his feet and follows the stream slowly, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and Cato in case Cato decides to come back and finish him off. By walking in the water he isn't leaving a bloody trail for Cato to follow, but he stumbles and then leaves a bloody smear on a rock he uses to steady himself. I'm surprised he has the presence of mind to think of covering his tracks, even if the bloody rock will give him away. Walking in the water was the right move. Eventually, he collapses in the mud beside the stream, "Katniss," he whispers before succumbing to the hallucinations.

Katniss continues to run away, stumbling and mumbling. She screams at nothing before tripping and falling into a ditch. "Peeta," she answers back before losing consciousness. _Peeta_? What is this? Some kind of telepathic connection? No. It's just edited to _look_ that way.

Peeta. She called _his_ name as she slipped into unconsciousness. Well, Peeta did just save her life. And got himself wounded- _mortally_ wounded- in the process. He sacrificed his life to save hers. Peeta sacrificed himself to save Katniss. One star-crossed lover surrendering his life for the other. His love? _My_ love.

I look to the Mellarks. They just witnessed their son and brother sacrifice himself. Mortally wounded. Nearly killed. They look stunned. Positively grief-stricken. They didn't have much expectation of him actually coming home, but the reality of this moment must be devastating. Paralyzing.

The whole of Twelve reels with shock. There has been an increasing divide over the past week. Town versus Seam is a daily reality here, but it has become more pronounced since it became clear we actually had_ two _contenders in the arena this year. Team Peeta versus Team Katniss. This has never happened before; most years our tributes don't even survive the bloodbath. This year it looks like they both had a chance of coming home. Especially Peeta, being a member of the Career pack and having killed two strong opponents. Katniss hasn't killed anyone- _yet_. Or, she hadn't until she dropped the nest. But, Peeta just sacrificed himself to protect Katniss. The Town boy sacrificed himself for the Seam girl. And, the whole district witnessed it. Team Peeta is heartsick over his injury; an injury of that severity in the Hunger Games is _lethal_. We all know it. Team Katniss is overjoyed at her deliverance, but all are shocked. All but me. Am I the only one who saw the possibility of this? Maybe Mr. Mellark knew. He seemed certain that Peeta wouldn't hurt Katniss.

I have often been accused of overthinking. Overanalyzing. But when I am presented with a set of circumstances that confound me, I often find myself obsessed until I puzzle it out. This _star-crossed lovers _puzzle has preoccupied much of my mind in the past week. I found myself constructing a decision tree in my mind focusing on Peeta's actions. What decisions has he faced in the past week? Why has he chosen each move? What is his strategy? His ultimate goal? Sometimes one assumes certain aspects of the puzzle to be self-evident, but you can never be one-hundred percent certain. For instance: the ultimate goal of a Hunger Games tribute is always to be the last one standing.

Peeta's actions clearly indicated his intent to warn and even protect Katniss. He was sincere about why they split up in the arena. They don't want to see each other die. He wouldn't help them kill her. And, the noise he made crashing through the woods as they snuck up on her wasn't an accident. As was his shouting to wait until morning. Lying about the knife being her weapon. Trying to dissuade Cato from returning to the scene of the tracker jacker attack. And, ultimately, tripping then fighting Cato to allow her to escape.

He should have killed Cato with that spear before they reached Katniss. He would have had the element of surprise. It would have been easy. Well, easy for someone like me. But, despite his actions in the bloodbath, Peeta is not a killer. Not really. Not like me. Or Katniss. He doesn't think that way. If he had, he and Katniss might be together now. Together and not seriously injured.

The broadcast ends with shots of all of the remaining tributes. Thresh, alone in the grain field, having no idea what has happened. Ginger, and the boy from Ten sneaking around the woods. Cato made it back to the Career camp, collapsing next to his district partner. Katniss, Peeta, Clove, Cato and Marvel are all unconscious from the tracker jacker venom. Five of the ten remaining tributes are unconscious! Totally exposed. Defenseless. Rue, perched in a tree, is watching Katniss. She could eliminate five right now. Is she considering killing Katniss? No, more likely she is considering stealing Katniss' supplies. The boy from Three is watching the remaining Careers. He could take them _all_ out. This is his chance. Is _he_ a killer? Will he become one? It would guarantee the winner wouldn't be a Career. And, it would dramatically increase Katniss' chances of coming home. Except. That would leave no hunters in the Games. Katniss would have to hunt down all the rest. Including the crippled boy from Ten. And little Rue. Maybe it would be better if Three killed two of the Careers, leaving one hunter to take out the ones Katniss would find the hardest to kill. Because if the Gamemakers are left with no hunters, they will be certain to use mutts and other means to keep the Games moving. They wouldn't allow the final seven to die off slowly from starvation and dehydration. No, no showmanship in that.

**Sunday, Games Day 6**

I spend Sunday morning at home with my family. I have missed just being able to spend time together since I started working in the mines. Mom makes us breakfast, using up the last of our tesserae rations. Rory is the only one now eligible, but I refuse to let him sign up. We are fine for now. It is summer and in a week or two I will be able to resume hunting on Sundays. When the Games are over. When Katniss is home.

So many things have changed in the past few weeks and I've been so busy I have hardly had time to process it all. Katniss is in the Games. When she gets home she'll be living in Victor's Village. Madge is my friend. _Our_ friend. I'll never be reaped. I am done with school. I'm working in the mines. I've joined the rebellion.

And, the rebellion! I have dreamed of one for so long it is hard to wrap my mind around the fact I am actually a part of it now. Not much of a part. Collier is the only one I have spoken to about it. We haven't done anything. The rebellion as a whole doesn't _do_ much, apparently. He said it was a long game. My father was part of it. He knew it was a long game and he didn't live to see _anything_ come of it. Will I? Will I have a chance to make a difference?

As we gather around the TV to watch this morning's highlights I am already planning what to do with the rest of my day off. I'll start a fire in the backyard to work on the arrows this afternoon. But, first I need to go into Town to pick up Prim's package from the baker. That is going to be awkward. After what Peeta did for Katniss yesterday.

_Katniss_. How long will she remain unconscious? She is so _vulnerable_ out there in the open. She has three stings. Enough to kill her- or make her go insane.

The highlights don't tell us much. As usual. We see Thresh running from some snake-like mutt. I guess with the Careers and Katniss all unconscious the Gamemakers have decided to flush Thresh out of his field. We see Three (Vick informs us his name is Linux Levy) standing over Cato, holding a sword. _Please, kill him_. _Please!_ He is the most dangerous. There will never be an easier time to take him out. We see Katniss unconscious, yet screaming. _Oh, no_. Screaming will draw attention to her. We see Peeta, awake. Wait, he's _awake?_ Already? After three tracker jacker stings and that gash? He must have the constitution of an ox. We see him drinking from the stream and digging in the mud. _What is he doing?_ Finally we see Rue, watching Katniss again. She pulls out a slingshot and shoots. We hear the stone impact something and Rue looks satisfied. Did she just shoot at Katniss? It would be hard to kill someone with so small a stone from that distance. I suppose it could knock someone unconscious if you hit them just right. But, Katniss is already totally out of it from the tracker jacker venom. Is Rue trying to kill her? Or possibly wake her up? Or maybe she was shooting at an animal. That makes more sense.

All in all, these highlights are not too alarming. As I make my way into town, I am pondering what is really going on in the arena. I can't picture little Rue shooting someone. Maybe because she just reminds me too much of Prim. Prim, who when we tried to teach her to hunt, cried at every kill and tried to convince us to let her save the animals that didn't die immediately. Could we really be so lucky as to have Three, Linux, take out the Careers? Unfortunately, killing three unconscious kids in cold blood is something most kids couldn't bring themselves to do- even in the Hunger Games. What will Thresh do when they finally flush him out? Maybe he will be the one to kill them. That seems more likely.

Rye Mellark answers the door and invites me in, which is a bit unusual on a nice, summer day like today. Normally, we stay on the back steps to do our trades. He hands me Prim's package and the bread I get each week for the squirrels.

"I'm sorry about Peeta," I say awkwardly.

Rye just looks at me sadly, "Yeah. Thanks."

Mr. Mellark and Bannock overhear our conversation as they come into the back room. Bannock is immediately belligerent, "Why would _you_ be sorry? My little brother's going to _die_ because of _your_ girl!" He shoves me.

I resist the impulse to return the shove - harder. "I'm sorry. He's a good kid. He doesn't deserve this. But, Katniss didn't _do_ anything to him."

Mr. Mellark comes between us, "Settle down, Bann. Peeta made the decision to protect her. He knew the risks. We are not going to let this change who we are. Do you understand me?" He turns to me, "I'm sorry about that, Gale."

"No problem. I'll just be going."

He tells me to wait while he gets a bag for my bread. When he returns I can tell the bag already has something in it before he adds my stuff, but I don't protest. I expect it is his way of apologizing for Bannock's outburst.

As I make my way across the square I hear someone calling my name. I look about until I see the Undersee's maid, Annis, waving at me from their porch. "Gale Hawthorne!" I can't imagine why she wants to speak to me, but I change direction to find out.

Before I have a chance to say anything, she is asking me, "Have you seen Madge this afternoon?"

Hmmm, she is _Madge_, not _Miss Undersee_, when Annis wants something from me. "No, I haven't seen her since last night's broadcast in the square."

She deflates, "Oh. I see. Well, thank you."

Something in her manner sends a frisson of alarm through me. I shake it off. No, that's ridiculous. "Is she…" I almost say 'missing', but that sounds too melodramatic. "Have you checked her friends' houses? I just came from the bakery and she isn't there."

"Yes. I've checked _everywhere_. She ran out after the highlights and we haven't seen her since."

Damn. So much for a relaxing afternoon. "I'll look for her. But, I have to take this home first."

"Oh, thank you. Mrs. Undersee is so very worried, but she didn't want to bother the Mayor. He was called into work, unexpectedly." She tells me the places she has checked before I head home. Well, so much for making arrows this afternoon.

After I drop off the bread at home and Prim's package at the Everdeens' I head back into town in search of Madge. I spend two hours checking all of the shops, behind the school and the community center before deciding I need to search farther afield. I check the Meadow and the park in Town.

I sit down in the square, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to imagine what she was thinking when she left. She was watching the highlights of the Games. I look towards the giant screens, playing over what we saw today. Peeta, wounded and digging in the mud. Katniss unconscious in a ditch. Katniss screaming, wearing her aunt's pin, lying in a ditch. Her aunt. In a ditch. Suddenly I know where she is: the cemetery.

The cemetery is located beyond the Townies' houses on the far side of the district from the Seam, but District Twelve is small and it doesn't take me long to reach it. The cemetery is old. Many of the stones predate the founding of Panem, some by hundreds of years. I wonder what the lives of these people were like. Were they any better off than we? Their society failed, leading to the founding of Panem, so maybe it was even worse.

I find Madge sitting in the shade of an old oak tree, her head on her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. The feeling of relief at finding her surprises me. I really was worried, not just upset at wasting my one afternoon off looking for her.

She doesn't hear my approach, so I call out to her from a few feet away. I don't want to scare the wits out of her as I have Katniss, surprising her in my stealth. "Madge."

She spins around, her long hair flipping over her shoulder as she does. Her tear-streaked face finds mine and she angrily scrubs at her cheeks as I close the distance between us.

I sit down next to her, noting the name on the gravestone. Maysilee Donner. We sit in silence for a few minutes while she composes herself. "Were you…looking for me?" she finally asks.

"Yes. Your mother was worried."

She looks at me strangely, "She sent you to look for me?"

"She didn't want to disturb the Mayor and I happened to be walking by."

"I'm sorry. I just had to get out of there. Seeing Peeta and Katniss. And then, my mother was having a breakdown. I just couldn't be there. I'm horrible. I should have stayed to help her," she starts crying again.

"No, Annis was taking care of her. They were just worried when you didn't come back."

"Sometimes, I wish I could just run away and never come back," she sniffs.

I bite my tongue. This is not something that is safe to discuss inside the fence. I don't think she is trying to bait me, but I'm not going to talk about it. "You shouldn't say things like that."

She looks at me reproachfully. "I thought we were friends."

"We are. But you being the Mayor's daughter doesn't make you exempt from the laws."

"You break the laws," she whispers. When I remain silent she continues, "Would you take me out into the woods?"

This sets off alarm bells in my head. I stand up and pull her up next to me. "Don't do that again."

"What?"

I start to walk away and she chases me, "What?" she demands. "Do you think I am trying to get you into trouble? It isn't as if Cray couldn't arrest you on suspicion of hunting any day of the week. He doesn't need me to help him."

She's right and I know it. I turn back to her, "I'm not going to discuss this with you."

"Please. I've never been beyond the fence. I've thought about asking Katniss, but I knew she'd refuse."

"You thought I'd agree?"

"I was hoping you might."

"Let's get you home," is all I say. Why would she think I would agree more readily than Katniss? We don't offer guided tours of the woods. "It's illegal. And dangerous." Am I actually considering taking her? What is wrong with me? "Besides, the fence is electrified."

"It isn't live most of the time. Even I know that."

I walk out of the cemetery and turn away from the town, walking to the edge of the district. Towards the fence. "It is during the Games," I point out, stopping before the fence, listening to the hum.

She takes my hand, pulling me away from the fence and into the trees. She cups her hand over her mouth and leans up to try and whisper into my ear. I have to stoop to allow her access. "I know how to shut off the fence," she breathes into my ear.

I straighten up abruptly. "You do?" My heart is beating madly. Can she hear it? I grab her arms as I lean down to whisper into her ear, "Messing with the fence is too dangerous. Visiting the woods on a whim isn't worth the risk of getting caught tampering with the fence." Her soft hair tickles my nose. I am assailed by the sweet scent of her as I inhale. Strawberries.

She looks up at me, disappointed. "Sometimes, risks are worth taking," she says softly.

I am much too close to her. I have this nearly irresistible desire to kiss her, and so I step back. Where did this come from? "I'll keep that in mind," I answer as I release her arms.

We walk back into town, but as we approach her house she slows down and eventually stops.

I turn back to her, "What?"

"I can't," suddenly she looks as if she is going to cry again.

"Can't what?" I ask.

She looks as if she wants to say something, and then shakes her head, "Never mind." She walks up onto the porch, "Come on in. You look as if you are going to swoon from the heat," she says teasingly. "I'll get us a drink."

_Swoon? _She thinks I look as if I am going to _swoon? _Way to bolster a guy's confidence, Madge. I find myself laughing as I follow her inside.

We sit in the kitchen as Annis prepares us a snack; which I accept gratefully. After spending the whole afternoon searching for Madge, I am hungry. Very hungry.

Madge asks me about my plans for the rest of the day and I tell her about my plan to make a campfire for Rory and Vick. I leave out the detail about the arrows, of course.

"Oh, that sounds like fun. We used to roast hotdogs and marshmallows over the fire when I was little," she smiles in fond remembrance.

"Marshmallow? You mean like the plant?" I ask, vaguely remembering Katniss mentioning the plant once. Something her mother used.

She laughs, "I don't think they come from a plant. Well, except I know sugar comes from plants." She turns towards Annis, "Do we have any marshmallows?"

"I'll go check, miss," Annis says, as she disappears into the next room.

"Well, I should be going. I was wondering Madge… do you watch the Games in the square every night?"

"Most nights. I can't stand to watch them alone, so I am usually in the square."

Alone. She watches them alone. I remember how freaked out she was when we watched them the other day. "What about your parents?"

"My father has to be in the square. If my mother is well enough to watch, she likes to be with him. Her doctor sometimes excuses her."

I dread going to the square even once a week. I can't imagine having to go every night. "Would you like to come over to our house? I mean, our TV is little and it is crowded. But, sometimes it is good to have a bad picture."

"Really?" she lights up. "You wouldn't mind?"

"No, of course not." I wonder if Madge has ever been inside a Seam house before.

Madge runs off to change and soon we are ready to leave. I'm glad she didn't dress up when she went to change. She is wearing a pair of dark shorts and a light pink tee shirt.

Annis hands me a basket as we leave. "What's in the basket?" I ask Madge as we reach the gate.

"Just a little something I wanted to contribute towards dinner."

Is she trying to feed my family again? I certainly can't object. After all, the Everdeens bring a contribution when they join us for dinner. "Thanks. Am I allowed to peek?" I ask as I reach for the towel covering the contents.

She slaps my hand away, playfully. "No, you're not."

When we reach my house my mother is more than a little rattled to find I have brought the Mayor's daughter home for dinner. Madge immediately puts her at ease and offers to help with the cooking. Within an hour, she has completely charmed my mother.

I'm outside with Rory and Vick starting the fire while she is inside. Rory is annoyed with me, since we won't be able to finish the arrows he and Vick were working on earlier. They proudly show me the pointed tips they had whittled while I was gone. They'll need to be hardened over the hot coals before they are ready to use. We can't do that with Madge here.

To bring down bigger game, like deer, we need to use arrowheads, but for smaller game like squirrels and rabbits, these are better. Arrowheads are hard to come by and are too damaging on small game.

Madge comes out holding Posy on her hip. "Gale!" Posy yells. "Look, look!" she calls, waving a bag around crazily, nearly hitting Madge in the face with it.

Madge laughs as she dodges the bag. I walk up to them, lifting Posy out of her arms, "Pose, Miss Madge is our guest. You're going to scare her away if you act like such a little terror."

Posy's face falls, "I'm sorry, Miss Madge. But, Gale, look!" she nearly hits me with the bag this time.

"Okay, what are these?"

"Mushmellows! Miss Madge says we can cook them over the fire. Mom said it was okay, as long as I promised to eat my dinner after." She is nodding her head so hard I'm surprised she isn't knocking into my face as she does.

I look at Madge, "Marshmallows?"

"For the campfire. Annis found them in the pantry. I didn't think we had any. I haven't had one in years. We just need sticks to roast them on."

Vick comes running over. "What are marshmallows?" He is looking at the bag suspiciously.

Posy speaks up, very pleased to have the answer, "They are big globs of _sugar_ that you cook over a fire."

"_Sugar?"_ Rory says in awe. We never have sugar. It is way too expensive. "Can we save one for Prim?"

"Oh, Prim and her mother are inside," Madge offers.

Rory runs inside to get Prim while Vick miraculously produces six perfect roasting sticks. Complete with freshly whittled points. Our arrows. Right out in the open! He's lucky I don't stick him with one.

"Oh, these are perfect!" enthuses Madge. "Thank you, Vick."

We sit around the fire on the stones arranged as seating. Madge plucks a big, white marshmallow from the bag and carefully mounts it on the "stick" before demonstrating the proper way to roast it. The kids sit, enraptured, as she slowly twirls it above the flame and it gradually turns brown. She pulls it out and looks around, deciding to offer it to Vick, since he found the roasting sticks.

Vick flashes me a triumphant smile as he takes the offered treat.

Madge passes out marshmallows to the rest of us, giving us tips on technique as we roast them. She helps Posy roast hers. Prim catches hers on fire. "Blow it out!" Madge calls.

Rory pulls her arrow from the flame and extinguishes it, nearly blowing the marshmallow off of the stick in the process as we all laugh.

Vick masters the art of roasting marshmallows on his first try, achieving a perfectly even browning all around. Madge pronounces him a natural. Naturally patient, yes.

I decide that Marshmallows are my favorite treat. Definitely one of the best things I have ever tasted. After several rounds, I insist Madge have one. She has been feeding hers to Posy.

"Oh, no. I really like roasting them better than eating them," she laughs.

"I insist," I say as I take mine off of my stick and hold it near her mouth, tapping on her bottom lip. "Open up," when she opens her mouth, either in surprise or assent, I feed it to her.

She laughs as I do, her eyes rolling around in delight. "Mmm. Even better than I remembered."

I find myself… enthralled. The look of pleasure on her face-.

Rory says, "You know. These sticks would work even better if we hardened the tips in the coals." He proceeds to poke several sticks into the coals. Madge smiles at him, but doesn't really pay it any notice. She is busy trying to disentangle Posy's sticky fingers from her hair.

Soon, my mother calls us inside. It is nearly time for the mandatory viewing to begin. We go inside to get dinner, which we'll eat in front of the TV. The venison stew my mother made, a dandelion salad provided by the Everdeens and a loaf of bakery bread that was in Madge's basket make it seem like a feast.

Rory and Prim sit on the floor with Vick and Posy to make room for Madge on the couch with my mom and Mrs. Everdeen.

When the show begins they show us the positions of the various tributes on a map. They zoom in to each location, showing us each tribute and updating us on their condition. There are two clusters on the map. One indicating the Career camp has four icons. The other cluster has two icons: Katniss and Rue.

The Gamemakers seem to have decided that Thresh is the most interesting tribute today. We have seen very little of him so far in the Games, but with half of the surviving tributes unconscious, they have decided to try and flush him out. He is being pursued by snake-like mutts around his grain field. I suspect if he heads out of the field, they won't pursue him.

He doubles back on them and manages to take several of them out, crushing their heads with rocks. Deft and deadly. No wasted movements, I apprise. He dashes further into the field as they follow him.

Katniss is still unconscious. She is twitching and moaning. She screams out Prim's name. Rory tries to comfort Prim as we watch her sister on the screen. She calls for her father.

We see Peeta wake up, and the announcers are surprised. They consult a tracker jacker expert- who thinks someone must have miscounted his stings- because no one has that kind of tolerance to tracker jacker venom. Peeta drinks from the stream, gathers a pile of leaves and pine needles from nearby and digs a shallow pit in the mud. He then _frosts_ himself into the bank. He completely disappears; camouflaged in the mud, leaves and pine needles. It takes him most of the day and he finally falls unconscious. Buried in the mud. It is pretty gruesome to think he just dug his own grave. But, he'll die in peace. Cato will never find him there.

The remaining Careers are unconscious, completely at the mercy of the boy from Three. Linux Levy could easily kill the whole Career pack! Marvel lies close to the lake. Cato and Clove lie near the burnt-out fire. Linux wanders around the camp, occasionally picking up Cato's sword and standing over him. By early afternoon in the arena it is clear. He won't do it. So, he will die.

Ginger, the girl from Five, watches Linux with a hopeful expression for most of the morning, but eventually she gives up and heads into the forest.

Rue spends the morning watching Katniss from her perch in a tree. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

They show us on the map that the crippled boy from Ten (Vick provides his name, of course), Angus Thorpe, is approaching Katniss and Rue's location. The announcers are hoping for a confrontation. _Confrontation? _Katniss is _unconscious_. What kind of confrontation is that? As he nears, but before he knows she is there, Katniss lets out a bloodcurdling scream. We all jump, hearing her scream like that. But, it is immediately apparent that she is still trapped in a nightmare of hallucinations. She is screaming at something only she can see. But, Angus hears Katniss screaming and runs off. He apparently thinks she is being attacked. Or tortured. Her hallucination may have just _saved_ her.

They rotate scenes, but nothing much is happening. Thresh outsmarting the mutts. Linux giving up on the idea of killing the Careers, who still lie unconscious. Ginger sneaking around the woods. Angus finding a place to hide from Katniss' nightmares. Peeta mumbling Katniss' name in his dreams or hallucinations. Katniss alternating between silence and screaming. Rue sitting. Watching.

When the Peacekeepers arrive, they are obviously surprised to find the Mayor's daughter watching with us, but they don't make a comment. They take down our names; enter them in their tablet and leave.

As darkness approaches in the arena, Ginger spots Katniss. I don't think Ginger has a weapon, but Katniss is _completely_ defenseless. My mother picks up Posy, turning her away from the screen. Prim buries her face into Rory's shoulder, already crying softly.

Ginger approaches quietly, backing off slightly when Katniss calls for Peeta. _Peeta again? _When he doesn't arrive and Ginger figures out that Katniss is dreaming, she continues closer. She reaches out towards Katniss when suddenly we see Rue, aiming her slingshot. She lets it fly and Ginger screams, running for the trees. A replay shows us that Rue hit her in the shoulder. Good aim. She protected Katniss. So, that's what she's been up to. Standing guard over her. Like…like a…puppy! Her- friend. This Games is not like the other Games. Like no other. What must the Capitol be thinking?

The anthem plays. Peeta wakes up, watching the sky attentively. When it ends he smiles; his teeth a bright white against his mud coating. "Katniss…safe." He says before closing his eyes and disappearing once again into the mud. And into his mind.

Linux has fallen asleep and Ginger takes the opportunity to sneak into their camp and refill her backpack. She doesn't even stop to pick up the weapons she passes. She just hurries off into the trees with her supplies. Her strategy clearly requires no weapons. No confrontation. Clever girl.

We see Thresh eating. Killing off the rest of the snake-like mutts. All of them. Alone. I fear this Thresh. And, does he ever speak? It's… unnerving.

Rue cautiously approaches Katniss. Katniss has been quiet for the last hour or so. The announcers tell us she is alive. She is most likely over the worst of the hallucinations, since it has been thirty-six hours since the attack. Rue sits nearby, sipping from a water skin. Watching. Guarding. She slowly edges closer to Katniss. When she is right next to her, she leans over Katniss and dribbles water onto her lips. Katniss screams and knocks the water skin from Rue's hand, spilling it all over herself. Rue grabs her water skin and scrambles back into her tree, breathing heavily.

The TV shuts off. Katniss is safe. She should wake up sometime tomorrow, according to the experts. Then we will see if she is okay. And, she will be okay. Katniss is too strong to let some hallucinations drive her insane. And, apparently she has a guardian angel in little Rue.

Madge and I walk with the Everdeens to their home on the edge of the Seam before I walk Madge the rest of the way home. We don't speak much on the way to her house, both absorbed in our own thoughts. It is a comfortable silence, not an awkward one.

Why did I nearly kiss Madge this afternoon? I'm _in love_ with Katniss. What is _wrong_ with me? Is it just the natural reaction of my body to hers? The result of holding a pretty girl in my arms? The fact that I haven't kissed any girl in over six months? Katniss is too clueless to know how I feel. Madge admitted she found me attractive the other day, but she also acknowledged being Katniss' friend. She recognizes my feelings, even if Katniss doesn't. So, she won't act on her attraction. We both won't act on our mutual attraction. Because that is all it is. Physical attraction. Normal. Healthy. Doesn't mean a thing. We can be friends. There can never be anything more between the Mayor's daughter and a coal miner. I belong with Katniss. My best friend. Coal miner and coal miner's daughter. Hunter and huntress. Made for each other.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

Wow! This was the longest chapter to date! I hope you don't mind l-o-n-g chapters. Katniss was unconscious during two days of THG chapter 14, but since Gale wasn't, I suppose his chapter 14 had to be longer.

**Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: **darrena, FortuneFaded2012, emmathefart, Nonamer44, TeamKatniss7, anonwritten, wrinkadink, PerfectTwo, and LoveforMellark.

**And **_**special**_** thanks to Ellenka,** **Animic, nikolette**,** MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, ****bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto**** ,**** xxAlizza, EStrunk**,** greenrose15 and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!**

**So, **_**please**_** leave a review and tell me what you think!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Monday, Games Day 7

I awake to the soothing rhythm of rain tapping on the windows. There is a cool breeze wafting through the half-open window, floating the curtain up and dispelling the heat and humidity that has lingered over the district for the past weeks. The sky is dark, but I know that is only because the heavy clouds block the dawn. It is a day made for sleeping-in, but that is not a luxury I can afford. Rain or shine, I work in the mine.

As I step out of the house, I breathe in deeply. The fresh scent of the rain reminds me of the forest, lifting my spirits. The feeling of the rain slapping against my skin is invigorating as I make my way towards the mine. I love summer rain and this year it has been unusually dry. I wish I was heading for the forest instead of the mine where I won't be able to enjoy the rain.

I find my crew standing around grumbling about the rain when I arrive, which amuses me. They don't want to be outside enjoying this refreshing summer rain? Would they really rather be below the ground in the catacombs of the mines?

When we disembark from the elevator I am greeted by an unexpected sight. The tunnels, which are dark and damp on the hottest of summer days, are covered in ankle-deep water. My crewmates continue their grumbling, but make their way towards their assigned tunnels without delay. I take a cautious step into the water. How hard was it raining last night? I have a sudden vision of the tunnels filling completely with water, trapping us.

This week we are continuing to work in a new section where the tunnels have such low clearance we spend much of the day on our hands and knees. Last week we were on our stomachs and backs in this tunnel. I shudder as I imagine lying on my stomach for hours in this filthy water. This cramped space- combined with the water- is enough to make everyone more touchy than normal. Maybe I am going to drown in this tunnel I find myself thinking more than once.

But, at least my preoccupation with the mine's conditions keep me distracted from what is going on in the arena this morning. Has Katniss awoken, yet? Is she all right?

It is a relief in many ways when we are called back to the larger tunnel to view the highlights. I try to stretch out my stiff, cramped muscles as we wait for the screens to come to life. I realize that Katniss will be even stiffer than I am when she awakens.

~Highlights~

We see Rue is spying on the Careers' camp, where everyone appears to be still asleep. She returns to watch Katniss. We see Thresh, still in his grain field. Ginger is also shown spying on the Careers. Peeta's mud-bank is shown, but we can't actually see him. Then they show us some shots of Angus as he is stumbling around, looking confused and frightened and we hear some ominous growling. Mutts. They are sending mutts after the poor crippled kid? As if the odds aren't already enough against him?

* * *

><p>As I drag myself home from work I feel a hundred years old. I am so upset. So frustrated. Why do we live in this hell-hole called Panem? Will things ever change? Will there ever be a world where we don't have to watch kids slaughtering each other in punishment for something that happened before any of us were even born?<p>

This morning's invigorating rain has changed to a pounding downpour that feels like daggers on my exposed skin. It reminds me I am still alive. I can still fight. And, I will find a way to fight.

My mother is in a state of near panic over the weather. Today is day seven of the Games and she, Vick and Posy haven't watched from the square, yet. They will have to go tonight. I look to my fragile little sister sitting on the floor, playing with some wooden blocks. She gets sick so easily. It is going to be dangerous taking her out into this weather for six hours of mandatory viewing. But- there is nothing we can do about it. Nothing at all. I can feel my mother's fear. I remember sadly the two little sisters who both died before Posy was born.

I wash up and change into dry clothes before choking down a quick dinner. We wrap Posy up in a blanket and I carry her to the square. Fortunately, the rain has let up to a gentle shower again. There aren't many people in the square tonight, but I am surprised when Prim and Mrs. Everdeen arrive. They didn't want to watch alone.

~Mandatory Viewing~

The first shot we see is Katniss. She lifts her hand to her eyes. Is she awake? Or is she only moving in her sleep? She _is_ awake, I realize as she slowly stretches out her limbs. That must hurt. She has been curled up in a ball for two days. Eventually, she manages to sit up and look around. She pulls at her wet shirt, looking confused. Does she remember anything that happened since she was stung? Going back for the bow? Peeta saving her? The nightmares? Rue giving her the water she spilled all over herself?

She sits sipping water, staring vacantly off into the distance. Is she all right? What is she staring at? Please, let her be all right.

We see Rue spying on the Careers and then traveling through the arena, hopping from tree to tree. As I suspected, Posy loves this.

Katniss drags herself over to a honeysuckle bush and plucks a flower. She frequently harvests honeysuckle plants for her mother to use in healing. She closes her eyes and smiles as she tastes the sweet nectar. I am flooded with memories of us enjoying it together in our woods. Does the taste remind her of me? I look over at Mrs. Everdeen, who has silent tears coursing down her cheeks as she watches her daughter fight her way back from the devastating effects of the tracker jacker venom.

Katniss pulls her bow around to examine it. She looks it over carefully. It is fancier than the ones we use when we hunt, but I am sure she will have no problem adjusting. And, she has a dozen professionally made arrows designed specifically for the bow. The bow makes her a predator instead of prey for the first time since she was reaped. This is the key to her winning. The one thing she needed. Katniss nocks her first arrow and shoots it at a nearby tree. She looks pleased with the results and shoots off a few more to get a good feel for the bow's character. She is all right. I can see it in her eyes. Yes, the Capitol will rue tempting her with that bow if they don't want a victor from the coal district. They are all in for a big, big surprise, I smile.

"She's lost a lot of weight," Prim says in concern. Yes, I suppose she has, but this is the Hunger Games, after all.

"Now that she has a bow, she'll be able to hunt. She'll have plenty to eat as soon as she does," Rory reassures her.

And, he's right. But, her water bottle is nearly empty. That is her most immediate need. Water. Again. They should call these the Thirst Games, since water is even harder to find than food. And more important. A human can survive for three weeks or so without food, but only about three days without water. How ironic is it that we are sitting here in the rain, watching her fight dehydration?

I wonder if Rue will try to make contact with Katniss now that she is awake. Rue must know of a water source. Maybe they were planning to be allies but just hadn't managed to hook up before now. It wouldn't surprise me if Katniss teamed up with this little girl who reminds me so much of Prim. But, if that were the case, then Rue would have come right out of hiding when Katniss woke up, wouldn't she? She is sitting, perched in a tree, watching. It would be better if they don't team up. Katniss doesn't need to have someone weaker to protect slowing her down. And, she definitely cannot afford to get attached to anyone in there.

Katniss sips more of her precious water and treats her burns and stings with the ointment sent by Haymitch.

"I don't think that ointment will work on the stings. The venom is not at all like a burn and those Capitol medicines are very narrowly targeted, as a rule. She could probably find a plant that would help, but I doubt she knows what to look for," Mrs. Everdeen laments, chewing her fingernail.

"You don't think she knows to look for plantain leaves?" Prim asks, as if anyone should know such a simple thing.

"No, she has never been great at remembering the medicinal plants. Only the edible ones seem to stick in her mind," Mrs. Everdeen smiles, sadly.

After treating her wounds, she sets off in the opposite direction from which she came. She is walking a bit stiffly, but she is making steady progress and the exercise will loosen up her stiff muscles. Within minutes she spots and shoots a rabbit. It isn't her usual clean kill, but the announcers are very impressed with her "lucky" shot. Of course, it would have to be a lucky shot. We don't have bows and arrows to train with in district Twelve.

The Careers are still unconscious. If Linux doesn't kill them soon, it will be too late. Katniss has been awake for what appears to be several hours. They should all be awake soon.

Rue is following at a discreet distance. Katniss appears totally unaware of her. This is amazing, given how naturally attuned Katniss is to the sounds in the woods.

We see Angus, frightened and struggling to run from something. Surely, if they intended to use the mutts to kill him, they would have caught him by now. They are probably herding him towards another tribute.

Eventually, Katniss finds a stream. She fills her bottle and sets it aside to purify. Then she strips down to her underclothes and wades into the stream. I wish they would cut away to something else. I don't want the whole country seeing Katniss in her wet underwear. But, of course, they don't. Must be a slow day in the arena. I squirm in my seat. I wish we hadn't come to the square tonight. But, at least it isn't something worse than a scantily clad Katniss. And, there aren't many people in the square as compared to an average night.

Prim was right. She _has_ lost a lot of weight. But, now that she has her bow, she will have plenty to eat.

She splashes around for a minute before lying down in the water. She looks so beautiful. So peaceful there in the stream, with the water flowing over and around her. But, it is an illusion, like almost everything else in the arena. She isn't at peace. This is just a brief respite from the horror. After a few minutes, she washes out her clothes and hangs them up on a bush to dry.

Normally, I would be worried about her being attacked in such an open place, but Rue is nearby and the other tributes are occupied elsewhere. The last shot we had of the Careers they were still unconscious. We haven't seen any map shots of others closing in on her location. Good thing. Despite her bow, I would be happier if she gets a day or two more to recover from the tracker jacker attack before she has to confront anyone.

Back at the Career camp, we see the first stirrings of life from the venom affected tributes. Cato and Marvel are awake, but barely. Clove is still unconscious. The Careers are treating Linux as a servant, sending him to fetch them water and food from the lake and supply tent. He has missed his chance. He must realize he will now surely die.

Thresh has made himself a little hut out of the tall grasses of grain. He seems to have actually _put on_ weight since the Games started. He has a large collection of grains and roots stockpiled to eat. He's clearly not a hunter. Neither of tributes nor of animals. A big farm boy.

Katniss looks refreshed after her dip in the stream. As Katniss sits sunning herself on the bank and playing with her hair, I find myself wishing I were the one running my hands through her long, dark hair. If I had gone with her… No. That wasn't possible. I'm needed here. She'll need me when she comes back. And, it's better that I'll be here for her. Waiting for her. She doesn't need my help in the arena. And - we couldn't _both_ win.

She collects some moss to clean Glimmer's blood off of the bow and arrows. They gleam silver in the bright sunlight when she is done. That isn't good. She should have left the blood on the bow and quiver. It was good camouflage.

She stands and stretches and _finally_ redresses herself. Good, Katniss. I think the world has seen more than enough of your shapely backside.

She packs up and follows the stream uphill, killing a strange-looking bird as she goes. At dusk she stops and builds a small fire. Good, this is the best time of day to build a fire. Least chance of it being seen.

A twig snaps behind her and in the blink of an eye Katniss is on her feet, has an arrow nocked and the bow drawn; scanning the trees in search of a target. Suddenly she relaxes, grinning. Can she see Rue?

"You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances," Katniss says playfully. _Playfully?_ Form an alliance? I groan, drawing questioning looks from the others around me. She is much too much like Prim. Katniss is going to get attached to her. Is already. This will be hard enough without getting attached to the other tributes. _Another_ tribute. Does she even realize that Peeta is as good as dead?

Rue peeks around the trunk, "You want _me_ for an ally?" she asks timidly. A _ward_, I think.

"Why not? You saved me with those tracker jackers. You're smart enough to still be alive. And I can't seem to shake you anyway." She's right about not being able to shake her. And, I guess Rue really did save her by pointing out the tracker jacker nest.

Rue's eyes flutter a moment in indecision.

"You hungry?" Katniss asks. "Come on then, I've had two kills today."

Rue tentatively steps out from behind her tree, obviously tempted. "I can fix your stings," she offers.

"Can you? How?" Katniss asks, brightening.

Rue dips into her pack and pulls out a handful of leaves.

"Ooooh, plantain leaves!" Prim coos.

"Where'd you find those?"

"Just around. We all carry them when we work in the orchards. They left a lot of nests there. There are a lot here, too," Rue reveals, looking around uneasily.

"That's right. You're District Eleven. Agriculture. Orchards, huh? That must be how you can fly around the trees like you've got wings." Rue smiles. "Well, come on. Fix me up."

Posy jumps up and starts twirling around and jumping. "I wanna fly like Rue!" she squeals before my mother grabs her and pulls her into her lap, wrapping the blanket back around her and shushing her. The Peacekeepers won't appreciate her distraction.

As Katniss rolls up her pant leg, Rue puts the leaves into her mouth and chews them. After a minute, Rue presses a gloppy green wad of chewed leaves and spit onto Katniss' knee.

"Eeeewwww!" Posy shrieks in disgust, covering her eyes as we all laugh. I smile at my little sister. I wish she could stay exactly like this forever.

Vick rolls his eyes at Posy. I guess he finds her reaction a little embarrassing.

"Ohhh," Katniss breathes in obvious relief as the leaves begin to help alleviate her pain.

Rue giggles, reminding me what a child she is. An innocent child. Like Prim. And Posy. "Lucky you had the sense to pull the stingers out or you'd be a lot worse."

"Do my neck! Do my cheek!" Katniss urges her excitedly as Rue chews another mouthful of leaves. Katniss is laughing, which nearly breaks my heart. To see her have these moments of happiness in such a place is so bittersweet. But it is good for her to have this release. A few moments of near-normalcy to keep her grounded in reality has to be a good thing.

Katniss notices the long burn on Rue's arm that she got from the fireball attack. "I've got something for that," she offers as she puts down her bow and anoints Rue's arm with some of her precious burn ointment.

"You have good sponsors," Rue says longingly.

"Have you gotten anything, yet?" Katniss asks. Rue shakes her head. "You will, though. Watch. The closer we get to the end, the more people will realize how clever you are," Katniss reassures her as she tends to the meat cooking over the fire.

"You weren't joking, about wanting me for an ally?" Rue asks.

"No, I meant it," Katniss vows.

"Okay," Rue agrees, offering her hand. They shake on it, "It's a deal."

Rue contributes some roots to the meal Katniss is cooking as they talk about the food. Katniss hands Rue a leg of the funny bird Rue identified as a groosling.

"Oh," Rue sighs, "I've never had a whole leg to myself before."

Katniss offers her the second leg, "Take the other."

"Really?"

"Take whatever you want. Now that I've got a bow and arrows, I can get more. Plus, I've got snares. I can show you how to set them." I smile. The pupil has become the teacher. Katniss, the Girl with the Snares. "Oh, take it," Katniss insists, putting the leg into Rue's little hands. "It will only keep a few days anyway, and we've got the whole bird plus the rabbit." Rue's hunger finally wins out over her resistance and she takes a big bite, smiling as the grease runs down her chin.

They cut away to another shot of the Career camp, where everyone is now awake, but they aren't on the move, yet. Apparently none of the Careers had the presence of mind to remove the stingers, so they continued to leak venom into the stings until they were empty. Katniss got less venom from each of her stings by pulling them out immediately. That explains why she was awake hours earlier than the others.

Why Peeta was awake on and off while the others were all unconscious remains a mystery. We can't really see him at all anymore unless he opens his eyes; which he seems to do only for the nightly anthem. It's been more than forty-eight hours since he was injured. How much longer can he possibly hold on? When they show us clips of him buried in his mud bank, he is always mumbling about Katniss. Telling her to run, or reminding himself she is safe. In the state of delirium he is in, he certainly isn't playing to the sponsors. It's _not_ an act. Not for him. He really is _in love_ with Katniss. Even as he lay dying, his every thought is of her.

The rain has picked up again. Posy's blanket is soaked and she is shivering. It is ten o'clock. If we were at home, she and Vick could go to bed, now. But, I can't leave for two more hours and they can't walk home alone in the dark. I think about putting her under the seats to protect her from the falling rain, but the ground is too wet.

Madge slides in next to me. I hadn't noticed her before.

"How is Posy?" she whispers. I just shrug my shoulders. "It's after ten. I can take her to my house until it's over. Vick, too."

I feel a sudden rush of gratitude and relief. I am so scared that Posy will get sick.

I look over at my mother and she smiles and nods her head in agreement."Oh, thank you! Please take them," she says thankfully.

I nod my head to Madge. "Pose, will you go with Miss Madge? You can wait at her house where it is dry and warm until I come get you. Vick can go with you."

Vick speaks up, "No, I want to stay."

Posy tightens her grip around my neck. "No, Gale." I sigh in frustration. I'm going to insist and she is going to throw a fit.

Madge slides closer and strokes back Posy's hair from her eyes. "Please, Posy? I would really like your company for a little while. I live right over there." Posy shakes her head and buries it into my shoulder. "What if Gale comes with us?" She looks up at me, "You can watch with me at home. You were in the square already this week, right?"

I look at her in surprise. "Will the Peacekeepers let me leave the square?"

She assures me they will. Vick is adamant about staying to watch, and since he never gets sick, my mother doesn't insist. I take Posy and we follow Madge from the square. We draw a lot of attention as we leave, but I don't care. Keeping Posy safe is my only concern. Madge stops to have a quiet word with a group of Peacekeepers, who stand aside and let us pass.

As soon as we arrive Madge takes control. We follow her upstairs where she leads us into a very feminine bedroom. It looks like something out of a story book. The bed is surrounded by white, lacy curtains and there is a doll house version of the Mayor's house in one corner.

Madge turns to me, "I'll help Posy change into something dry. You should change, too. I'll meet you downstairs as soon as I can. Do you remember your room?"

I nod and leave. Posy doesn't seem to notice. She is too entranced by the dolls on the bed. I find "my" room and change. Ten minutes later Madge joins me in the TV room, without Posy.

"Where's Posy?"

"Asleep."

"What if she wakes up?"

"I left the door open. We'll hear her if she cries out," Madge assures me. I'm still a little worried. What if she wakes up and falls down the stairs? We don't have any stairs at home.

We settle into our spots on the couch to watch what's left of the last two hours of mandatory viewing.

When next we see Katniss, it's almost nightfall. She and Rue are discussing where they will spend the night. "Where do you sleep? In the trees?" Katniss asks. Rue nods, "In just your jacket?"

Rue holds up an extra pair of socks. "I have these for my hands."

"You can share my sleeping bag if you want. We'll both easily fit," Katniss offers.

They climb up into a tree and settle into Katniss' sleeping bag for the night. Good. Sharing body heat will keep them both warmer. I bet it will be just like sleeping with Prim for Katniss. Sharing body heat is a good idea. Body heat. Her body. My heat. As long as it is with Rue and not with Peeta. She wouldn't have offered to share with him if they had been allies. Would she? Why am I _jealous_ of Peeta? He saved her life and now he lies dying alone in the mud. Why does the idea of them together make me so crazy, even now? With so many more important things at stake than their sleeping arrangements? How important is their supposed _one perfect night_ in the bigger scheme of things? It's not. Not really. But, I can't get it out of my head.

And, I owe him a debt I will never be able to repay. He saved Katniss' life. He will die in the arena and she will come home to me. Because he gave his life for hers. To be jealous of him is just wrong. On so many levels.

Rue and Katniss have a whispered conversation during the anthem. There were no deaths again today. I hope the Gamemakers don't decide to get involved once more to liven things up.

After the anthem Rue and Katniss are discussing the Careers, but they are no longer whispering. "We're strong, too," Katniss argues. "Just in a different way."

"You are. You can shoot," Rue says. "What can I do?"

"You can feed yourself. Can they?"

"They don't need to. They have all those supplies," Rue reminds her. Yes, the Careers always have several weeks' worth of food culled from the Cornucopia. They never need to worry about hunger. Only hunting down the surviving tributes and evading the Gamemakers' traps.

Katniss gets a mischievous sparkle in her eye and I know she has a plan. "Say they didn't. Say the supplies were gone. How long would they last? I mean, it's the _Hunger_ Games, right?"

"But, Katniss, they're not hungry," Rue says, confused.

"No, they're not. That's the problem." _Oh, no. Katniss, what are you planning? _"I think we're going to have to fix that, Rue."

Madge turns to me as the broadcast ends, "What do you suppose she is planning?"

"It sounds like she is planning to go on the offensive. She is going to try to destroy the Careers' supplies."

"Can she do that? She'll have to go into their camp to do that."

"If there is a way, she will find it." I shudder at the thought of her going into the lion's den. Where's Daniel when you need him? "Madge, I want to thank you again. I was really worried about Posy tonight. How did you know?"

"I saw you on the TV. You looked so worried, trying to keep her covered." Capitol showed that, huh?

We walk upstairs and find Posy sleeping peacefully in the curtained princess bed. Madge had tucked her in securely and she was clinging to one of the dolls. I sit down near Posy's feet. "Her hair is dry," I whisper.

"Yes, I dried her off before I changed her," Madge whispers back. "I didn't want her to catch cold." Good thinking. I should've made sure of that. But, Madge took care of her.

I watch her sleeping for a few minutes, listening to the rain tapping on the windows. The sound is much quieter than at home. I guess it's the windows. Madge sits on the bed by Posy's shoulder and smooths back Posy's bangs. "It's still raining. She can stay the night, if you want."

It suddenly hits me. We are in Madge's bedroom. Sitting on her bed. "I have to work in the morning," I say, standing up suddenly.

She looks at me in surprise, "I know. But, Posy doesn't have to work. I could walk her home in the morning before school."

"No. If she woke up here she would be very upset."

"Okay. Just let me find something to wrap her in," she says as she leaves the room.

I walk around, feeling like an intruder as I look at the items on Madge's dresser. A couple of pictures of her family. A miniature piano with some kind of a key on the bottom. A hairbrush and mirror. A bowl of colored ribbons.

I pick up the little piano, turning it over in my hands to look at the key. The top flips open as I do and soft, tinkling music fills the quiet room. I nearly drop it as I flip it back over and close the cover quickly. I look towards the bed, where Posy sleeps undisturbed. I carefully place the piano back on the dresser and resolve not to touch anything else.

Madge returns, holding several items in her arms. "I don't think you could manage an umbrella and Posy, so you're going to have to wear this," she says, holding up a long, black coat. "It should fit." I slide my arms carefully into it, but to my surprise it fits fine.

She pulls back Posy's blankets and carefully slips a similar jacket onto Posy. This one is a lighter color, but I can't tell exactly what color in the dim light of the bedroom. It swims on her, completely covering her legs. Madge pulls up the hood and fastens it under Posy's chin. All without waking her.

I scoop Posy up into my arms. When we get to the front door Madge adjusts our hoods to protect us from the rain. "Thank you," I bend over and kiss Madge quickly on the cheek before heading out into the storm. Body heat.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

**Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: **darrena, Create Elements, Roseblue14, Court819, The-Mockingjay-Games, trinnity, FortuneFaded2012, emmathefart, Nonamer44, Cortana Bennet, jau0062 and PerfectTwo.

**And **_**special**_** thanks to Ellenka,**** MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, ****bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto**** ,**** xxAlizza, EStrunk**,** greenrose15 and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!**

**So, **_**please**_** leave a review and tell me what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

WOW! Over twelve-_thousand_ hits and 200+ reviews for the first fifteen chapters of the Jealousy Games! You guys make me feel so loved and appreciated. I was really motivated to write by all of the awesome reviews, so you get two chapters in two days this week! Enjoy!

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Chapter 16

Mom is waiting up anxiously when I arrive home with Posy. It is still raining, but we are mostly dry thanks to Madge's efforts. I hand Posy over and Mom quickly checks her over, relieved to find her dry and not feeling feverish. She tucks Posy into bed before coming back out to see me.

"Is that Madge's nightgown she is wearing?" she asks with raised eyebrows, looking at me curiously.

"I guess so. Madge changed her and Posy slept in Madge's bed while we finished watching the Games."

"Mmmhh," she mutters.

"What?"

"And, whose clothes are _you_ wearing, Gale?"

Damn. "I don't know. Madge gave them to me," last week, but she didn't ask when. "Mine were wet."

"_Obviously_." She looks as if she has more to say, but thankfully she doesn't. "Oh, Thom stopped by. The mines are closed tomorrow. Because of the rain."

I can't say I'm disappointed. I can deal with the mines, but the mines filled with water are another matter entirely.

Tuesday, Games day 8

I wake up to find Posy bouncing on my bed. My brothers are gone already and I can see the soft summer sunlight streaming through the window. "Morning Posy."

"Morning Gale! Mommy said I wasn't to say a word until you woke up. I've been waiting and _waiting_," she exclaims, every word punctuated with a little bounce and her irresistible smile.

I do not resist, smiling back. I guess Mom didn't mention not _bouncing_ me awake. I notice she is still wearing Madge's night gown. It is white, with little pink flowers and a ruffle of lace around the neckline. A pink ribbon threaded through the lace ties in the front. It covers her feet, but I imagine on Madge it would end somewhere on her thighs.

Pushing that thought quickly aside, I get up and look for my clothes. Not counting my work clothes or my reaping clothes, I have two sets. One set I forgot at Madge's. The other must be in my mother's laundry pile, because it is nowhere to be found. I reluctantly pull on the denim pants and green pullover I have "borrowed" from Madge. They are comfortable and nicer than my regular clothes, but I feel self-conscious wearing them. They are too nice. Too _merchant_.

Posy is full of energy this morning, showing no ill-effects of her outing in the rain last evening. I have Madge to thank for that. The fact that she is so caring. And, so thoughtful, makes me want to do something in return for her. But, I don't know what. She probably has more pocket money than I make in a month. She has servants to do any unpleasant chores that need doing. She doesn't _need_ anything I could provide.

Katniss. How is she this morning? She has been in the arena for more than a week, now. It seems unreal. I take Posy for a walk to the Meadow, where she runs around chasing butterflies in the warm summer sunshine. Her carefree laughter is like a balm to my troubled thoughts. That Katniss could be in such mortal danger while Posy and I sit here peacefully enjoying the sunshine is unsettling. How can the two realities coexist?

There are ten tributes left. Nine more children must die before she can come home to us.

I take Posy by the hand and we head home to see this morning's highlights. How much longer until we will know? Every day for us is torture. But, for Katniss it is even worse.

~Highlights~

They show us a montage of clips of tributes running: Rue, Katniss, Thresh, Foxface, Angus, Linux and the Careers. Everyone but Peeta. The clips are all voiced over with taunts and jeers of the Careers. It is clear they are chasing someone, but of course we cannot tell who. We see a shot of Cato playing with the blood on his sword. So, they have killed someone. The cannon blast punctuating the death ends the broadcast. It can't have been Katniss. I would _know_ if it were. Nine. Only nine of the twenty-four remain. And, Katniss is one of them. Eight if you don't count Peeta. His cannon could sound at any time.

I spend the afternoon doing minor repairs around the house and working a little on the arrows. My mother is perturbed over the arrows. She is afraid I'll get caught with them. Normally, Katniss and I make them in the woods, but I cannot bear to waste a minute of my limited time away from work. When I mention this to my mother she makes it a point to keep me busy until my brothers get home from school.

Vick comes skidding into the yard, almost missing the gate. He is flushed and out of breath.

"Hey Vick, where's Rory?" I ask looking up from the chair I am mending.

"He stopped at Prim's."

I nod, unsurprised. They've been best friends as long as Katniss and I have and they have been drawn even closer these past two weeks. She's been gone for two weeks. We've never gone longer than two days without seeing each other since we met four years ago.

Vick sits down on the step next to me, watching me. After a minute he says, "It wasn't for her."

"What wasn't?" Is he talking about Prim?

"The cannon. It wasn't for Katniss," he says very seriously.

I put my arm around his shoulder. My ten year old brother is trying to comfort me. "Thanks, Vick. I know it wasn't." We have to think positively.

He looks at me, "It really wasn't. Did you see the clip of her running? She didn't have her bow or the sting on her cheek."

I look at him sharply, "She didn't?" How did I miss that?

"Nope. It was an old shot. The woods she was running through weren't even the same as the shots of the Careers.

I hug him, relief flooding through me. "Thanks Vick."

We sit there talking about all of the tings Vick noticed in this morning's highlights as I continue to work on the chair.

"_Gale!"_ I hear Madge call breathlessly from the road as she runs into the yard.

I stand immediately and cross to her, "What? What's wrong Madge?" I say, grasping her arms. She is disheveled and breathless. Did she run all the way here?

"Katniss is all right!" she gasps, bending over and holding her side.

I lead her towards the house, "How do you know?"

"Haymitch. He called," she says, regaining control of her breathing. My mother hands her a glass of water as Madge takes a seat at the kitchen table. "Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne," she smiles.

"Haymitch called you? Why? What did he say?"

"He said they were down to nine and he needed to talk to you and the Everdeens. Before the final eight interviews."

"I told you," Vick says. I ruffle his hair.

"Remind me to never doubt you again."

"My mother asked me to invite you all over for dinner and the viewing tonight. Haymitch is going to call back to talk to you."

"Why does he want to talk to _me?_"

"I don't know. He wants to talk to all of you. I guess to go over what you should say to the interviewers."

"Who died?" Vick asks.

"Haymitch wasn't allowed to tell me," Madge tells him gently.

At five o'clock we arrive for dinner. Madge explains it is a "buffet". Her mother thought the informality of it would work better for the little kids as well as give everyone a chance to speak with Haymitch when he calls. The amount of food for only ten people is staggering. Vick and Rory have a hard time keeping their mouths from hanging open when they are told they can refill their plates as many times as they like. A "buffet."

I'm not even certain what half of the dishes are. I've never been an official guest of the Mayor before, although I have eaten here on several occasions with Madge. If they eat like this every night it is amazing they aren't fat.

When Haymitch calls the Everdeens and my mother go into the Mayor's office to speak with him. When they come out a few minutes later they look at me uneasily. Madge and I are called in next. Why Madge has to go with me I've no idea. The Mayor hands the phone to his daughter first.

"Hello, this is Madge," she says into the phone.

"Yes. I do…But why? …Yes… Yes, of course… Yes, I understand…" she continues.

I am going a little crazy listening to one side of this conversation.

"Okay. I'll make sure…Yes. Thank you," she finishes, turning to me. She covers part of the phone with her hand and whispers to me. "Haymitch wanted me to tell you the phone lines are bugged and to make sure that you don't contradict anything he says."

I reach for the phone, but she doesn't hand it to me. She is chewing on her lower lip, which I would find adorable if I wasn't concerned about what Haymitch thought was so worrisome he needed to remind me the phones were bugged. "Is there something else?" I ask.

"You are her cousin," she whispers so low I think I misheard her.

"What?" I whisper back.

"You and Katniss are…_cousins_."

"No, we're not!" I state emphatically.

The Mayor reaches for the phone, "Madge, take him for a nice, long walk." He ushers us out of the office and closes the door. I open my mouth to speak, but Madge puts her hand to my lips.

"Not here," she says, walking towards the front door. We walk out towards the square, but turn off before we reach it.

"Care to tell me what is going on? Katniss and I are _not_ cousins. Why does he want us to pretend we are?"

"Apparently the people in the Capitol are _eating up_ the star-crossed lovers story. Katniss has sponsors. And,_ Peeta_ has sponsors. _Lots_ of sponsors. Haymitch thinks if they present you as her best friend in the interviews no one will believe you two are just friends."

"Why does it matter?" I demand.

"She needs to keep the sponsors to win. You know the price of any gift gets more expensive as each day passes. If people think she has a love interest at home they won't believe she is in love with Peeta. Peeta's sponsors will let their donations go towards Katniss when he dies- if they believe she is heartbroken over his death."

"No. I'm not going to be a part of this- _farce,_" I insist.

"I think I am related to everyone in Town, at least distantly. If he told me I had to be Peeta's cousin for him to come home I wouldn't question it. I expect everyone in the Seam is somehow related as well." She stops and turns towards me, "Just ask yourself one thing."

"What?"

"Is there _anything_ you wouldn't do to bring her home safely?" she asks softly.

Put that way, no, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to keep her safe. "No. But, I don't understand why he assumes people wouldn't believe we are just friends."

Madge rolls her eyes and laughs up at me, "Oh, _please. _The Capitol audience is going to get one look at you and start drooling. You are too handsome - too… _striking_- for them to believe that Katniss could spend any time alone with you without falling for you."

"Some might say the same about our friendship," I say, noticing how her golden hair sparkles in the late afternoon sunlight. Her deep blue eyes flit away from me in embarrassment. Some might question our friendship, saying she is far too lovely to resist.

She recovers her composure and looks directly into my eyes, "They might, but I am not in the Games pretending to be in love with someone else. If people think I cannot resist you. So be it. I'll live with the consequences."

This leaves me speechless. Is she serious?

"Are you ready to hear what Haymitch has to say? We only have a few minutes left before the broadcast."

"Yes, I'm ready," I say as we turn back towards the house.

In a few minutes I am back in the Mayor's office, talking into a phone for the first time in my life. "Hello, Haymitch? This is Gale Hawthorne."

"Good Gale. I only have a few minutes. The interviews will be tomorrow."

I interrupt him, "tomorrow?" how can he know that? Unless there have already been _two_ deaths today.

"Don't interrupt. _Tomorrow._ They are already on their way to the districts. Now, I want you to be sure to tell them how you and your _cousin_ became close after the deaths of your fathers. How your families spend a lot of time together."

I grit my teeth. For Katniss. I can do this for her. These Capitol creatures have no right to pry into our personal lives. They don't have a right to the truth. "Yes, that's right. She is my _favorite_ cousin." Madge is right. We could be distant cousins. Very distant.

"Good. Another thing they might ask about…Where she learned to shoot a bow. Did you know that the Mayor's daughter has an antique bow? She taught Katniss. Katniss is naturally good at everything she tries. She picked it up in one or two lessons."

I look at Madge sharply; does she really have a bow? "I didn't know that. I was wondering if she picked it up at training."

"I need to go Gale. Can you handle your younger brothers?"

"Yes. That's not a problem. We all want her to come home. More than anything."

~~~~GAMES~~~~

The Mayor goes to the square as he does every night, but the rest of us stay to watch the Games at his house. The Everdeens, my family, Mrs. Undersee and Madge. We are spread out comfortably on the plush couches and chairs in their living room. The buffet is still available and my brothers are doing their best to demolish it.

It is almost dawn in the arena. Angus sleeps huddled in a ball, in a thicket of shrubs and vines. He is fairly well-concealed. But, the Careers are on the hunt in his vicinity. And, because of his crippled leg, his tracks are very distinctive. He drags one foot as he walks. Even these novice hunters track him easily.

They are closing in on his location, easily following his trail. The excitement in their eyes and hushed voices as they follow his footprints fills me with loathing. Outrage. They are like a pack of wild dogs, hungry for a kill. Separating the weak from the herd.

Rue slips out of the sleeping bag at first light, taking care not to disturb Katniss. She goes to spy on the Careers' camp again and steals some eggs from a nest on the way back.

They have found his hiding place. Cato prods the thicket with his sword, laughing mercilessly. Angus is woken suddenly at the sound. He cringes back in fear, whimpering and begging. Pleading for his life.

Clove is polishing one of her knives on her shirt as she watches Cato taunt the boy. "Why don't we give him a little head start?" she suggests.

"Whadaya mean?" Marvel asks, clearly puzzled.

Cato laughs, obviously on the same page as Clove. "Sure. Why not. Give him a sporting chance."

A _sporting chance?_ They are going to let him run- so they can have more fun chasing him down. Even if he had a weapon he wouldn't stand a chance. Three trained Careers against an untrained boy with a crippled leg. To draw out his death unnecessarily is just cruel. Evil. Why make him suffer?

Cato cuts away at the thicket and they taunt the boy until he struggles to his feet. He pulls his cane behind him. The cane is his district token, since each tribute is allowed only one item from home. He flees, stumbling, into the woods as the Careers watch him, laughing. They give him a few minutes head start before they give chase.

It's depraved. They are enjoying his fear. Feeding on it. How are these kids raised that it turns them into such monsters? They have been trained to kill, it is true. But, to enjoy another's suffering? Can you _train_ someone to be a monster? Would these particular kids have been monsters, even without the Games? And do the Games just give a platform to demonstrate their evil? To be petted and lauded for it?

What must life be like in the Career districts? In Twelve people in general care for one another. Feel compassion when others suffer. In the Career districts they train many, many kids to kill. Yet, only a handful go into the Games. What happens to the ones left behind? The ones who have been trained to kill and feel no compassion and yet will be the ones to raise each succeeding generation? Are they raising generations of kids who lack the normal, human emotions of compassion, mercy, and empathy? The things that separate us from the animals. The very essence of humanity itself.

I would be afraid to let my younger siblings out of my sight if we lived in such a district. How many of these kids have killed before the Games even begin? No matter how thorough the training, it is hard to imagine Cato and Clove haven't killed before. They never hesitated in the bloodbath.

Do they have a lot of violent crime in the Career districts? We have little to none here in Twelve, so it is hard to imagine. With our small population and the Peacekeepers, it isn't a problem. They train Peacekeepers in Two, so they must have an especially heavy presence there. To keep the population from killing one other? Of course, the Peacekeepers are _recruited_ from Two, as well. So, it is likely the Peacekeepers themselves have a lot of Career trained killers among them, as well.

I see Madge has slipped to the floor with Posy. They are playing with the dolls from Madge's bed as Madge keeps one eye on the TV. Fortunately Posy is completely preoccupied with the dolls and isn't aware of what is about to happen.

My mother and Mrs. Everdeen are sitting quietly on a couch with Mrs. Undersee. My younger brothers are riveted to the screen. I wish none of us had to witness this evil.

They follow Angus at an easy pace, taunting him. Calling out to him. Letting him know he will never get away. They are enjoying the thrill of the chase. Feeding on his terror. The taste of blood to come.

They chase him for about an hour before he finally falls and is unable to get up. They surround him, poking and prodding. Kicking away his cane.

Madge pulls Posy into her lap, facing her towards our mother. They share an understanding look. Madge will not let her see.

Prim is crying into Rory's shoulder. She is such a sweet little thing. She would never have lasted in the arena. Katniss did the right thing volunteering in her place.

Cato cuts him viciously on his good leg and holds up his sword, running his fingers through the blood in delight. Clove cuts off his toes. One by one! Dissecting him. Alive.

Vick looks as if his eyes are going to pop out of his head. I pull him close to me, "You don't have to watch," I whisper as he buries his face into my chest.

Marvel from District One stands by, watching. Cato cuts a matching gash on Angus' crippled leg. It reminds me of the wound he gave Peeta.

Cato turns towards Marvel, "Your turn." He holds up his hand as Marvel moves in, "But- don't kill him- yet."

Marvel hoists his spear and impales Angus savagely in the abdomen. But, there is no relief for Angus. He doesn't die or even lose consciousness. He continues to scream and beg. Only now his pleas are for death and not life.

Prim whimpers.

My mother takes Posy, who was struggling to turn towards the TV. Madge looks as if she is going to be ill. I pull her up onto the couch beside me. I have one arm around Madge and the other around Vick as the Careers continue to torment their victim.

Cato and Clove continue to cut him up. Gash upon gash. Piece by piece. They continue to mutilate him. Until finally, mercifully, he loses consciousness. When he does, Cato kicks him several times. Realizing that their _fun_ is over, Cato slices his throat. So deeply that Angus is nearly decapitated. The relief I feel that it is over is cut short as bile rises into my throat. Madge is crying softly into my shoulder. Vick struggles free as soon as it ends.

Moments after Rue's return, Katniss is awakened by the blast of cannon proclaiming Angus' death.

"Who do you think that was?" Katniss asks in concern. Is she worrying about Peeta?

"I don't know. It could have been any of the others," says Rue. "I guess we'll know tonight."

"Who's left again?"

"The boy from District One. Both tributes from Two. The boy from Three. Thresh and me. And you and Peeta." Rue tilts her head, thinking. "That's eight. Wait, and the boy from Ten, the one with the bad leg. He makes nine." They are forgetting Ginger from Five. _Everyone_ is forgetting Ginger.

"I wonder how that last one died," Rue says nervously.

"No telling. But it's good for us. A death should hold the crow for a bit. Maybe we'll have time to do something before the Gamemakers decide things have been moving too slowly," Katniss answers. Yes, that gory show the Careers just put on should satiate the crowd for a bit. "What's in your hands?"

"Breakfast," says Rue, holding up two large eggs.

"What kind are those?"

"Not sure, there's a marshy area over that way. Some kind of waterbird."

They decide not to risk a fire, eating the eggs raw. They each have some of the rabbit and berries as well. That's a good breakfast. It should give them both plenty of energy for whatever lies ahead today. With the Careers back on the hunt, they will need to be in good shape. And, prepared for anything.

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen look better now that the gore has passed and we are seeing Katniss looking so well.

"Ready to do it?" asks Katniss, pulling on her pack.

"Do what?" asks Rue, bouncing in excitement. A picture of Posy bouncing on my bed this morning flashes through my mind. It must feel good to be able to do something deliberately instead of merely reacting to whatever is happening to them.

"Today we take out the Careers' food," Katniss says with determination.

"Really? How?" Rue asks excitedly.

"No idea. Come on, we'll figure out a plan while we hunt."

They do more talking than hunting as Katniss pumps Rue for information on the Careers' camp.

"And the food's just out in the open?" Katniss asks. Rue nods. "Something's not quite right about that whole setup." That's right Catnip. It's a TRAP. Don't go running in there impulsively. You are _so_ impulsive. My palms begin to sweat at the thought of her sneaking in to investigate and getting blown to bits. This must have happened this morning. Haymitch wouldn't have told us to be ready for the interviews unless she survived whatever happened this morning. Anything up until we talked to him a few hours ago.

Rue continues, "I know. But I couldn't tell what exactly. Katniss, even if you could get to the food, how would you get rid of it?"

"Burn it. Dump it in the lake. Soak it in fuel." Katniss pokes Rue in the belly, causing the smaller girl to giggle. "Eat it! Don't worry. I'll think of something. Destroying things is much easier than making them."

Prim is now laughing a little. Just like Rue. Seeing Katniss acting sure of herself. Katniss determined and with a plan. That is comforting to us all.

They spend the morning gathering plants and devising a strategy in hushed tones. They talk a bit about music and Rue teaches Katniss a four note signal she uses in the orchards of District Eleven. Rue tells Katniss about the mockingjays who carry her song across the orchards and comments on the pin from Madge. Katniss offers it to Rue, but Rue tells her to keep it, telling her it was the reason she decided to trust Katniss. She decided to trust Katniss because of a bird on a pin? Such an innocent child. To put her trust in someone based on such an arbitrary thing. Madge and Mrs. Undersee both smile at this exchange. I guess she doesn't mind that Madge gave the pin to Katniss.

Their plan consists of Rue setting a series of fires to entice the Careers into the woods, allowing Katniss a chance to sneak into their camp and devise a way to destroy their stockpile of food. They decide to use Rue's four-note song as a signal.

"Okay, then. If all goes according to plan, I'll see you for dinner," Katniss says as she prepares to leave.

Rue suddenly throws her arms around Katniss, hugging her, and Katniss hugs her back. "You be careful," Rue says. As I suspected, they have come to care about each other.

"You, too," Katniss says before she leaves. She looks concerned. And determined.

As Katniss makes her way back towards the Cornucopia she seems lost in thought. Is she thinking of home? Of me? Of Prim? Of whether or not she will live? Or only of her plan to destroy the Careers' supplies? Focus, Catnip, focus.

She crosses the stream Peeta has camouflaged himself in, but not near enough to him for them to notice each other. She finds the scene of the tracker jacker attack and Peeta's battle with Cato. She pauses here. Thinking about Peeta? Remembering what happened? Gathering her courage? Steeling her resolve?

She slowly makes her way closer to the Cornucopia. Her years hunting in the forest have made her able to blend with her surroundings. She passes a rabbit, which doesn't even bother to look up as she does. All four tributes are at the camp as she slides beneath the bushes near the edge of the woods. I let out a breath as she settles in, undetected.

We are all silent and tense as we wait to see what will unfold.

She'll be evaluating the supplies, trying to come up with a plan. I wish I could see her. Know what she is thinking. Warn her. Does she realize it's booby-trapped?

Rue starts the first fire sometime after Katniss reached her hiding spot. Cato spots it and begins pointing and shouting. The Careers get into an argument about Linux; whether to leave him or bring him along.

"He's coming. We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway. No one can touch those supplies," yells Cato. I hope she can hear them.

"What about _Lover Boy?"_ says Marvel. Yes, Peeta knows how to access them. But, he isn't going anywhere.

"I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death, yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us," Cato exclaims. So, now Katniss knows Peeta is hurt. How will this affect her focus?

"Come on," Cato says, thrusting a spear into Linux's hands as they all head out to investigate Rue's fire.

Katniss stays put for a while. Eventually Ginger creeps out onto the plain. I smile in relief. She knows it's booby-trapped and how to get around it. Katniss will not get herself blown up now that she knows. Ginger approaches the supplies in her little dance of skips and jumps. She overshoots and lands on her hands and knees at one point. I expect a mine to blow, but it doesn't. Maybe she will get blown up on the way out. Haymitch implied there were two deaths today.

She takes a little food from several different crates and sacks before reversing her path and disappearing back into the woods without setting off any mines.

Katniss must surely know now. _Think_ Katniss. Why is the boy from Three with the Careers? What could he possibly offer them? Three: technology, electronics, _explosives._

"It's mined," we hear her whisper from the bushes. Good girl. It's a trap. Now, how are you going to outsmart it?

Rue starts her second fire just as the Careers reach the first one. They are upset about missing the tribute who set this fire, but they set out after the second fire as soon as they see it. Aren't they suspicious? Time is running out for Katniss.

She comes out of her hiding place, examining one of the metal launch plates before approaching the pyramid cautiously. Examining the pyramid and the strategically placed supplies surrounding it. My mind is frantically evaluating and discarding options of attack. Setting the net on fire won't detonate the mines, although it would get it out of the way so she could throw rocks to detonate them. Of course, the fire would draw the Careers back. And it would take a lot of rocks to detonate all of the mines. Being Katniss, she could shoot _through _the net. Could she possibly cause a chain reaction of some kind? She could sever the rope holding the sack of apples! If it fell right, they might spill out and detonate some of the mines. Or, she could-

Suddenly, she smiles. She has a plan. I know she does. You can do this, Catnip. You can.

Everyone turns to me. Have I been speaking out loud? Prim grins at me. Yes, I have. I shrug and everyone returns their attention to the TV.

Katniss draws an arrow and plants her feet firmly. What is she aiming for? The crates are too heavy to be knocked over by an arrow. The apples? Something else I haven't considered? Suddenly she releases an arrow and I hold my breath. No explosion. The announcers think she is wasting her time. They think she missed. But, Katniss _doesn't_ miss. She is pleased. She hit what she was aiming for, of course. She tore a long hole in the burlap sack of apples. "Brilliant. Oh, Katniss. Just brilliant. Even better than severing the rope!"

Rory shushes me and I look at Madge sitting beside me. She just smiles before looking back towards the TV. I am getting too wound up to keep my observations to myself.

The second arrow widens the hole, leaving a flap. The apples are poised to fall. The announcers don't know what to make of two hits into the same target. Through the net and from a safe distance it is a remarkable feat. Even for her. No wonder the announcers are dumbfounded. My face is in danger of splitting in two from my grin. "She's going to do it!"

The third arrow flies, ripping the flap from the sack and sending the apples tumbling to the ground, causing a series of explosions. Our cheers are suddenly silenced as we see Katniss thrown into the air, blown back from the force of the explosion.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: Flaming Arrows, Pinklove21, Forest Bug, emmathefart,fallenfaeangel, FortuneFaded2012,carmellachoco,Madhatterpenquin, Nonamer44, and taylorjeanjn.

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, greenrose15, Animic and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

So, _please_ leave a review and tell me what you think! It really motivates me to update faster!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Tuesday, Games day 8

"_KATNISS!"_ Prim screams, tears running down her cheeks, as Katniss flies through the air, crashing down on her backpack. She lies sprawled there for a few moments before finally shielding her face from the fiery debris raining down upon her. More mines continue to explode, blowing the pyramid of supplies to pieces and filling the air with a burning rain of fragments and ashes.

The Careers jump in surprise at the series of explosions, shouting a string of expletives as they hurry back towards their camp. They are cursing and swearing as they barrel through the forest. They didn't know it, but they had Rue cornered in a tree. She never got the chance to set the third fire.

Ginger and Thresh look up in confusion and concern at the explosions. They're probably thinking this is some Gamemaker-made explosion and wondering how it will affect them.

Peeta wakes up whispering, "Katniss. Please be okay." I wish he would just die already. I'm tired of him moaning her name every time we see him.

Katniss rolls over to inspect the results of her attack. She pulls herself to her feet and takes a few stumbling steps away, only to fall back to the ground. _Get up Katniss! Move it!_ She lies there for too long as the Careers close in on her location. Fortunately, they were quite a distance away when the mines blew.

She shakes her head, putting one hand up to her left ear and it comes away covered in blood. She's dizzy, injured, and _bleeding. _She pulls up her hood, tying it tightly at her throat. Slowly she inches forward on her hands and knees. The anxiety…the suspense is killing me. I will her to move faster. Will she have enough time to reach cover before the Careers return?

Another mine blows, knocking her to the ground. _Argh_, can this get worse? More challenging? And, it's not even the Gamemakers or another tribute this time. She struggles back to her knees, determined to reach the safety of the woods. We barely breathe as she inches along, flattened yet again by a stray mine. She creeps on her belly the last few feet, managing to disappear into the brush just as Cato breaks through the tree line.

Cato's in a fit of rage unlike anything I've ever seen. He pulls out clumps of his hair and throws himself to the ground, hammering it with his fists. The other three members of his alliance keep a wary distance.

The cameras zoom in on Katniss' hiding spot. She is completely hidden, thankfully.

Linux throws a series of rocks into the wreckage and declares it safe to approach. He is apparently confident the mines have all been detonated. Does he not realize his usefulness is at an end? But, more than this, that they will _blame_ him for the destruction? Nothing will ever be their fault, of course. Especially not their own life or death.

They sift through the rubble, looking for anything salvageable. And, there is nothing. They are left with only what they had with them and whatever is in their tents. The destruction is complete. Let the _Hunger_ Games begin, I smile. Katniss has levelled the playing field. Levelled everything in the immediate area, literally.

Cato kicks crates around, cursing and yelling at everyone. As I expected, he focuses his rage on Linux. He doesn't know who blew the mines, but he knows whose idea it was to mine the supplies in the first place.

Cato is so out of control that I wonder if he is quite sane. Tracker jacker venom is said to cause insanity in some. He spews his own venom at Linux, who finally turns to run. Cato catches him immediately, snaps his neck and throws him to the ground. And then there were eight. Eight little Indians. The tune "the Ten Little Indians" starts in my mind and I realize immediately it will be there all night.

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are speculating about Katniss' injuries. She is dizzy. Bleeding from one ear. Quite a mess to add to tracker jacker venom recovery. Most likely it is only a ruptured ear drum, they say. But, it _could _be worse. A hemorrhage or a fractured skull? We won't know until she comes out of hiding just how serious her injuries are. I wonder if Katniss heard the blast of cannon announcing Linux's death.

I almost hope she cannot hear the vicious threats Cato is making against the bomber right now. Clove and Marvel are attempting to soothe his savage outburst: the bomber is surely dead; the cannon blast lost in the sound of the explosions.

They argue about who it could have been. There are only four possibilities: Katniss, Thresh, Ginger and Rue. They know Peeta is too injured. And, nobody ever sees Thresh. Ginger: definitely not an offensive player. Rue or Katniss? Rue: merely a frightened little girl. So, Katniss?

"It had to have been Twelve," Clove argues. "Even if Lover Boy is too injured to do it himself, he could have told _her_ about the mines. She's got to be dead," she says, waving at the field of smoldering debris.

Ha, Rue _and_ Katniss, how about that? They would never have considered allying with a little girl, so of course, nobody would. This year's batch of Careers have a serious problem: mirror-imaging. A common, often deadly mistake. _I would do it this way. I always do it this way. Why, everyone does it this way! _No, not everyone.

Cato wants to return to the hunt, but agrees to wait until nightfall. The three remaining Careers retreat to the far side of the lake to allow the hovercraft to retrieve Linux's body. Fortunately, Katniss must be far enough away not to interfere with the retrieval. If they hadn't retrieved the body the Careers might have figured out the bomber was still nearby.

Rue never got a chance to light the third fire before the Careers scared her into hiding. But, she heard the mines detonate before they ran off, so she leaves the third fire unlit. She works her way back towards the rendezvous point. But, Katniss won't be meeting her there tonight. She waits anxiously for Katniss, climbing a tree and eating a small meal before settling into Katniss' sleeping bag.

As the anthem plays, we see all of the remaining tributes staring expectantly at the sky. We get a glimpse of Katniss through the branches. I sigh in relief. Not dying. Not unconscious. She is alert enough to know the anthem is playing. I wonder if she can hear it?

The anthem shows only the boys from Three and Ten: Linux and Angus. No bomber.

Ginger and Thresh look merely interested to see who died today. Rue looks thrilled; clapping her hands in excitement to learn Katniss is still alive. Peeta looks pleased, smiling. "You can win this, Katniss. I know you can." He sounds more lucid than he has in days. How much longer can he possibly hold on? Lucid…kind of an awful thought. Recover just enough so you fully understand. Enough to fully appreciate and fully feel each step of your impending, inevitable death.

The Careers stare in disbelief as the seal of Panem reappears in the sky after showing only two faces. "No bomber!" Cato screeches, furiously.

My, my. Aren't we outraged? Feeling cheated? Out-maneuvered? Out-smarted? Emasculated? Yeah, and by two little girls, tough guy. Ha, I feel as if I personally scored this goal myself.

The Careers set out to hunt. They decide the bomber must be injured. Will they begin hunting for the injured bomber close to their camp? No, no such logical planning. They head straight into the woods, not even bothering to check the areas within view of their destroyed camp. These tributes would be awfully skinny if they had been born in Twelve. Brute force and brawn gets you only so far. The mines can break a man no matter how strong. The Capitol, too.

Katniss stays hidden, safe in her dense brush. Is she still bleeding? She must be cold as Rue has the sleeping bag. How cold does it get in the arena at night anyway? Well, cold enough for the girl from Eight to light the fire that got her killed the very first night.

The Careers argue while hunting. Really! Some people. I mean, really. Hunting the less clever prey of animals is difficult enough when highly skilled hunters _try_ to be stealthy. Now try it with the most clever of prey- prey that will transform from prey to hunter with the flick of a knife. And - just to make it fair- let's all _argue _while we do it.

Cato still hasn't managed to calm himself down and things appear to be getting tenser by the hour. Eventually, Marvel falls behind the tributes from Two and sneaks off into the dark on his own. With the destruction of the supplies there isn't much incentive for them to stay together. The end of the Career alliance normally signals the Games are drawing to a close.

Wednesday, Games Day 9

I don't have to work today because the friends and family interviews are being recorded this morning. Today, I will announce to the whole of Panem that Katniss is my cousin. _Cousin,_ I think bitterly. But, Madge is right. I'll do whatever it takes to bring her home safely.

Rory and Vick are excited to get the day off from school. Posy is excited to have us all home and by the idea we will all be on television.

We dress in our best casual clothes. This means I am wearing the clothes from Madge. Again. They are starting to feel like mine. Since the Games began, my clothing and unclothing has become quite a theme. On/off. Sooty/washed. Seam/Merchant. Unscented/scented. With more than a hint of strawberry.

Posy fidgets while Mom braids her hair. I dawdle purposefully. I _really_ don't want to do these interviews. If we delay long enough, maybe they won't have enough time for us.

We arrive in the square late morning and see they are interviewing a huge group of town kids all claiming to be Peeta's friends. If they interview them all, they definitely won't have time for us, I think hopefully.

But, my hope is short-lived when I realize there isn't only one interviewer. There are _half a_ _dozen_. Up on the stage are two interview areas for the families and special friends. The Mellarks are in one semicircle of chairs with one reporter. The Everdeens are in a second area with another. To the sides below the stage are two smaller areas arranged for anyone who wishes to be interviewed.

They finish with the immediate family interviews and announce they will continue the interviews after the highlights. They will continue with the interviews up until the mandatory viewing begins at six. I am actually anxious for highlights today. I _need_ them show us Katniss. Please, let her be well enough to be on the move today.

~Highlights~

The highlights feature the breakup of the Career alliance, showing Marvel slinking off into the darkness and Cato and Clove arguing once they notice he is gone. Thresh is on the plain near the lake. Is this the first time he has left his field? I think it may be. About as much excitement from Thresh that we ever see. Rue is running through the arena. She doesn't look scared. Just looking for Katniss? Ginger is shown laughing at the destruction of the Career's supplies. Hmm, she has a delightful laugh.

No shots of Katniss this morning. Well, that is good. She is certainly not in danger if they aren't showing her.

~Interview~

The interviewer- named Varvara Vamp- flirts with me, trying to get me to loosen up and smile for the cameras. Which I refuse to do. I must tell them Katniss is my cousin, but that is all I am doing. She tells me the camera loves me. That I am handsome. Dark and mysterious. Telegenic. She says the Capitol will eat me up. She moistens her lips with her tongue, looking me over hungrily. As if I am on her personal menu.

Varvara is the star member of the Hunger Games' traveling interview teams. She is a striking woman with a copper snake tattoo coiled around her neck and trailing down her bare arm. Unlike most people from the Capitol she avoids bright colors. She called me dark and mysterious, but I think those words fit her far better: dark, sensuous, and _dangerous_. Like a Siren luring men in with her sweet words. I must tread very carefully with her.

I wouldn't be surprised if she succeeds Caesar in his role as host at some point in the future. She is normally sent to one of the Career districts. How did she end up here in District Twelve? Did she piss someone off? Or maybe she thinks Katniss has a good shot at winning.

She talks to the cameraman about the angles and shots she wants to use for my interview. I notice the groups of more casual "friends" below the stage are not getting nearly this much attention. They get a minute or two at most and no discussion is made of camera angles and shots. And, they don't have Varvara doing their interview, just some new face. She even introduces her cameraman- Goth Vista. Really? A cameraman named "Vista"? These Capitol names are just too much.

I nearly bolt from the stage when her assistant comes out with some kind of powdered make-up they want me to wear. But, one look from Varvara freezes me. Her snake tattoo reminds me of the day a Copperhead and I crossed paths in the woods. That day when my only choice was to freeze and wait to see if I was going to die. The assistant strikes quickly with her brush. I breathe deliberately to control my temper. For Katniss, I remind myself.

Varvara looks as if she is being strangled by the snake. Which would be fine with me. Posy screamed in fright when she saw her, refusing to come out from behind my mother's skirt.

She tells Goth Vista to begin taping.

"Hunger Games correspondent Varvara Vamp here with Gale Hawthorne, _friend_ of District Twelve tribute Katniss Everdeen," she turns towards me, leaning in provocatively. "So, _Gale_, everyone tells us that you and Katniss are _inseparable_. Would you say this is true?"

"Katniss and I are very close," I say carefully.

"Some say you are best friends. Some say it is even _more_ than that." They really are digging for dirt on Katniss. "Would you say you are _more_ than friends?" she purrs seductively.

"Yes. We _are_ more than best friends." She looks as if she is going to jump into my lap. I lean back in my chair. "Katniss is my _cousin_." I state clearly, surprised how easily the lie slips off my tongue.

Her face falls in disappointment, but she hides it quickly. "Your cousin? No one mentioned you were _related_."

I shrug as if it is of no interest to me what others think.

"_Kissing cousins?"_ she asks hopefully, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Kissing cousins? Their new angle is to be the backwoods hicks of District Twelve? Brilliant counter-strike. Rescuing their storyline in a single phrase. Almost. They obviously sent their best here for a purpose.

"No. No kissing." Not yet. "Just cousins."

"Well then, as her _very close cousin, _tell us, what did you think of Peeta's declaration of undying love?" she asks breathlessly and without a trace of sarcasm.

I glare at her. "I was... upset."

"Jealous?" She isn't letting this go. Obviously they sent her here to destroy the illusion of the star-crossed lovers. Revealing how high the stakes must be. How important they see Katniss. Why doesn't the Capitol want this? Haymitch said the sponsors were eating up the story.

"Merely protective. She didn't need something like that thrown at her the night before entering the arena," I snap.

"Oh, well, I suppose that. But, were you _surprised?" _She acts as if the Games are merely the stage for the real story. A love story.

"That he likes her or that he announced it on _national_ television?" I ask. There. Deliberately not understanding her so I could drive home the point. On _national_ television.

"Why, that he likes her, of course."

"No."

"Why not?" When is this going to end? She looks disappointed at my terse answers, but I sense she's actually more annoyed and frustrated.

"Because of the way he looks at her."

"Do you think _she_ was surprised?"

I think of my clueless Catnip. How totally oblivious she is with boys. "Yes." My tone is just right. Totally confident. Totally reassuring to those who may suspect Katniss. Totally truthful.

"She never noticed how he looks at her?"

"Katniss is completely clueless when it comes to boys. She would never imagine _anyone_ thinking of her that way." She certainly never noticed I look at her that way. Often. Right in front of her…at arm's length. Why should she have noticed _him?_ It's not as if he could really compete with me for her. In real life, I mean, here in Twelve.

"What do you think of them as a couple?"

"A _couple?" _I spit. "They never had a chance to be a _couple."_ Only one night. One _perfect_ night.

"Yes. It is so _tragic_," she sniffs. Have I convinced her of truth of the story or is she only playing along for the audience?

Yes, tragic that we live in Panem, where children are slaughtered to punish people who have been dead for seventy-five years. Tragic that our government grows monsters, manufactures hopelessness. Tragic that you are so beautifully twisted, so vain, and _so_ wrong.

What is one phony romance compared to that? When I don't respond, she seems to realize she won't get any more out of me.

"And, what do you think are her odds of winning?" she finishes with the traditional final question.

A picture of Katniss being blown backwards from the explosion flashes across my mind. Crawling away to hide, bleeding from one ear. "Oh, she'll win." I say confidently. And I AM. Confident.

She is immediately drawn back into the interview. Attracted to potential controversy. Curiosity piqued, she asks skeptically, "How can you be so…confident and unworried?"

"She's absolutely a natural with that bow, isn't she? Pretty clever, too. Plenty of guts. Not too reckless. Yeah, she'll be the Last Alive."

She signs off and I immediately leave the stage. I turn down several other reporters wanting interviews. Desperately wanting. Desperate and wanting. I didn't have a choice with Varvara, but I'm not giving any voluntary interviews. I'm exhausted after the verbal fencing. Wrung out. Emptied.

Fortunately, they barely spend any time with my mother and siblings. Once the question of a possible romantic relationship was quashed, they lost interest in the rest of my family. They move onto Katniss' other friends. I look in disgust at the dozens of kids lining up to be interviewed. I wonder how many of them have ever even talked to her. How many of the boys will claim to be the boys Peeta referred to? The ones who like her.

I see one of my former girlfriends in the line. She _hates_ Katniss. I go over to her, "Why are you waiting to be interviewed, Daphne? I wouldn't exactly call you and Katniss _friends_."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call you and Katniss _cousins_, either," she says quietly. "But, since you _are_, then I guess there isn't any reason we couldn't get back together, is there?" she purrs, running her hand up my chest. She had been jealous of the time I spent with Katniss every day.

"I don't care if you knew we were cousins or not. Katniss wasn't the reason we broke up." Now my lies are spilling over into my "real" life. "Go; have fun with your few minutes in the limelight." I remove her hand from my chest. Like a clinging vine from the forest. Still.

"Oh, I will," she promises.

"Don't say anything to contradict me, or you _will_ regret it," I say before leaving. I probably should have ignored her completely. She isn't the only person in this line who isn't a friend of Katniss. Her only other real friend isn't even in the line, I note. I see Madge watching the interviews from her father's side.

~Games~

We are watching from the square since the interviews were today. All interviewees must view from the square in case they want shots of us watching tonight. The interviews with the friends and families will be interspersed with the shots of the Games.

Clove and Cato are livid when they realize Marvel has taken off. "We should have been the ones to end it! And, it wouldn't have been by sneaking off in the dark like a coward," Cato rants. They take a break from their hunting to eat breakfast, which arrives by parachute. Career tributes. Even with their supplies destroyed they don't go hungry.

We meet Cato and Clove's families. They talk about how proud they are of their kids for volunteering and making it this far. How they expect them home in a few weeks. About the parties they are planning. Both families, huh? I just don't understand how they so often have volunteers in these districts. Don't they do the math? How can they be so confident of victory when they know at the very least one of the two _will_ die? And the three Career districts have just over half of the Victors among them. So, even odds they both die. The people of Two are...different. More of them are warped.

Cato has a pretty little sister who says she misses him, but she doesn't have Prim's warmth or sparkle. His father is a victor, and he _expects_ his son to win. Volunteering was a foregone conclusion- and not enough. He must come home the victor. Demands it of his son. Not hard to figure out why, either. Little boy grew up to follow in Daddy's footsteps.

Marvel must not have as many sponsors, because he has to make do with what he has in his pack for breakfast. This probably isn't much. He didn't expect to have to survive the rest of the Games with what he packed in there yesterday; before Katniss blew the supplies. No need for a heavy pack when you have a stockpile.

We hear from Marvel's father and brother. What an awesome son and brother he is. They interview half a dozen girls who are anxious to have him home.

Rue sets off in search of Katniss. With the Careers split into two, she runs twice the risk of running into trouble. I don't expect little Rue to survive her first confrontation.

Rue has five younger siblings, all small and delicate like her. The contrast between her desperate family trying to be positive for the cameras and the Careers' confident families is jarring. They clearly know Rue isn't coming home. Her parents stand with their arms lovingly around each other. Brothers and sisters openly show affection. She is well-loved, I think sadly.

Ginger approaches the demolished pyramid of supplies, laughing in amazement. She scavenges through the debris, arming herself with a knife and finding a few other useful items as well. She hears some noise from the field of wheat and takes off back into the woods.

Ginger's older sister is the only family member from the Todd family. She looks remarkably like her sister. She praises her sister's intelligence and will to survive. We don't meet any friends for the sneaky girl from Five. Does anyone other than her sister _know_ her? See her?

Speaking of the near-invisible, Thresh sneaks out of his grain field and up to the lake. He refills his water bottles before returning to where he has spent the last nine days. Alone in the field. His plan is obviously to merely outwait everyone else.

Thresh's family consists of his grandmother and his sister. They are both quiet. Their answers are even shorter than mine were. A family of few words, it seems. I get the sense they feel deep. An old saying springs to mind: still waters run deep.

I wish they would show us _Katniss._ That's who everyone wants to see! She must still be sleeping off the effects of the bombing.

Cato and Clove argue about where to resume hunting after they finish their breakfast.

Finally, we see Katniss slip out of her hiding place. She appears to be in good shape. Steady on her feet, walking quickly away from the lake. She nocks an arrow and holds her bow in one hand while she eats the groosling. Name sounds stupid. Wonder how it tastes? She finds the stream, refills her water bottle and washes the blood from her ear. She continues upstream, stripping off her boots and socks so she can wade in the stream, catching two fish as she goes.

She seems bothered by her ear, rubbing at it constantly. But, only the one that was bleeding. I surmise she isn't completely deaf. That might be an insurmountable handicap in the Games. Hearing is as important as sight for a hunter. More important if you are prey.

Now, it is time for our interviews. Prim comes across as angelic and devoted to her big sister. Exactly the case. They spend an inordinate amount of time with her. Not surprising since she is so adorable and the fact that Katniss volunteered to take her place makes her especially interesting. Still, I am suspicious. Mrs. Everdeen holds it together for a short interview.

Madge did manage to fit in an interview. They ask her about teaching Katniss to shoot and she tells a little story about her aunt's antique bow and teaching Katniss to shoot in her basement. It's an ingenious explanation of Katniss' skill. Does Haymitch think of everything? Why has he never brought home a victor before? Next is my interview. I hear some murmuring from the crowd when I announce our kinship, but nothing extraordinary. They air the entirety of my interview, I think. I get even more air time than Prim. More than anyone else tonight for some reason. They move onto the "friends" interviews, showing short clips of kids she doesn't quite know praising her. Daphne got her few minutes, earnestly supporting my claim of being Katniss' cousin, and claiming she would know, of course, being my girlfriend. I hear some genuine laughter at that. It is no secret that she is no longer my girlfriend, but it actually helps the cover story if I do have a girlfriend, so I don't care that she said it. Haymitch is surely thrilled. And, Katniss knows better.

Peeta is still hanging on. Camouflaged into his muddy riverbank.

The interviews with Peeta's family are definitely the most gut-wrenching to watch. Only in part because I know his family. Watching them talk about Peeta- who lies mortally wounded- is awful. I definitely wish he had died before the final eight. Mr. Mellark talks about how proud he is of Peeta. Giving his life for the girl he loves. He tells us that Peeta told him he wouldn't be returning because he intended to protect her. He makes Peeta sound like some kind of selfless saint. Saint Peeta. Why did Peeta do that? Was he suicidal? He didn't even _know_ her before the reaping.

Katniss goes to the rendezvous point looking for Rue; clearly agitated to find Rue has not returned. She washes her hair and jacket in the stream, removing most of the accumulated blood before washing and treating her wounds. I wonder how much of the burn medicine is left? She eats and eventually climbs a tree to wait for Rue. She should just give up on Rue. That way it will be easier on her when Rue gets killed.

Meanwhile, Rue is desperately trying to evade Marvel, who is nearby her location.

They switch to a shot of Katniss climbing down and setting off with determination. She sprinkles some leaves on the ground before she goes. This must be some kind of a sign for Rue. She has decided she is done waiting. But, is she going to look for Rue or for a safe place to spend the night? The sun is getting lower on the horizon in the arena.

When she reaches the third fire and finds it was never lit, she is obviously concerned by what that implies. With what happened to Rue. She sets off again. I know that look! She is determined to track down Rue. Dammit. Rue is hiding from Marvel. If Katniss manages to track Rue, she could easily run right into him.

She slips stealthily through the woods, checking for tracks and disturbances on the forest floor. Suddenly her head comes up and she cocks her head to the side. She has heard something! Relief trickles through my tense body as I realize she isn't deaf. She turns her head again. What is it she hears? I hear only a bird call. Is that Rue's signal? Katniss grins and moves off in a new direction. It must be.

Katniss lifts her eyes and scans the treetops for the birds before she sings to them herself. The birds in the arena fall silent listening before they repeat back her soft melody. I find myself smiling, hearing her sing. I have never heard her sing before. Quite…pretty. Endearing, actually.

The scene suddenly switches to Rue running. She is headed straight for a snare. I can see it, but she won't in her terrified flight. She screams as she is suddenly wrapped up in a net. Marvel and Katniss both hear her and start running in her direction. The square is suddenly filled with worried murmurings.

_No, Katniss! You can't save her! Hide! Run the other way!_

Rue begins screaming for Katniss, like a baby sister for her big sister "Katniss! Katniss!" _Dammit!_ Marvel is going to _know_ she's in the area now.

"Rue!" Katniss shouts back. _What are you doing Katniss?_ _You can't save her, but you can get yourself killed! So shut up! _"Rue! I'm coming!" she ignores me, continuing to shout, running madly through the underbrush.

Prim is gasping, trying not to cry! And failing. I can see cameras being trained on her in _anticipation_. These Capitol people are just sick. Rory squeezes her hand. Mrs. Everdeen sits quietly watching. My mother holds Posy close, keeping her head just barely averted from the scene. Vick huddles close to me. Being in the square prevents us from hiding most of the horror. The Peacekeepers won't stand for us hiding the little one's faces in our chests. It is mandatory _viewing,_ not mandatory attendance.

Marvel reaches the clearing just a moment before Katniss, launching the spear just as she breaks through the trees.

Rue sees Katniss. Reaching her hand through the net she calls _"Katniss!"_ And the spear pierces her slight frame. Sorrow battles hate in my soul. Hate wins and I reflect it all at the Capitol.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: HabsGirl31, marie, Lorelei Eve, invisibleunicornz, The Magic of the Night, MsCassity, Forest Bug, emmathefart, Madhatterpenquin, fallenfaeangel, PerfectTwo, Pinklove21, carmellachoco, and taylorjeanjn.

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

So, _please_ leave a review and tell me what you think! If I made a mistake with any of the facts, please point it out, as I am trying to stay as close to canon as possible. I will go back and fix any typos or errors as time permits.

It really motivates me to update faster when you review!


	18. Chapter 18

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 18**

Wednesday, Games Day 9

Katniss charges boldly into the clearing, shooting Marvel so quickly it seems she doesn't need time to aim. Her next arrow is nocked before the first one strikes. Marvel reflexively pulls the arrow out of his neck, speeding his own death. Blood spurts from the wound as he falls to the ground, drowning in his own blood.

Children in the square are screaming and crying. Rue's death is brutal. Marvel's is bloody and gruesome, his blood spraying forth with each heartbeat as he writhes on the ground next to Rue.

"Are there more? _Are there more?"_ Katniss shouts urgently at Rue, pivoting in a circle looking for more attackers.

"No… No," Rue cries softly as she curls her body round the spear that is still lodged deeply in her abdomen. "No," she whimpers.

Prim covers her face with her hands to smother her sobs. Rory rubs his hand on her back. Posy is crying hysterically, crawling from our mother over to me. She thinks I can protect her from anything. How I wish she were right. She will have nightmares about this for weeks. A Capitol who makes your nightmares come true.

Katniss shoves the wounded Marvel away from Rue and quickly cuts away the net with her hunting knife. She crouches beside the younger girl as she looks helplessly at the wound. It's obvious Rue is dying. She reaches out for Katniss' hand, and they cling to each other.

"You blew up the food?" Rue whispers.

"Every last bit," Katniss confirms, choking back tears.

"You have to win," Rue tells her. I remember how I had Prim make her promise to win. Now a second little sister has joined the chorus.

"I'm going to. Going to win for both of us now," she promises, stroking back Rue's hair. Now she has promised both Prim and Rue. She must win for both of them.

A cannon sounds, startling both the crowd and the girls being watched by the crowd. Katniss looks towards Marvel's still body. Day nine- and her first _real_ kill.

"Don't go," begs Rue.

"Course not. Staying right here," Katniss promises, moving closer and cradling Rue's head in her lap. It's a good thing no one is near, since she has dropped her bow to comfort Rue.

"Sing," Rue whispers. _Sing?_ Katniss doesn't know there is no one near enough to hear. She should refuse. But- she won't. Not if she can think of a song. She's clearly become emotionally invested in Rue. She treats her almost as if she were Prim. Has been for a while.

Katniss coughs with emotion and swallows her tears before beginning.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

Rue's breathing is slow and shallow. Her eyelids drift closed. Tears are now streaming down Katniss' cheeks as she pauses to catch her breath. Prim is openly sobbing, telling Rory that Katniss used to sing that song to her when she was little. Sweetie, you _are_ little.

Why have I never heard Katniss sing before? She is… amazing. It is eerily quiet in the arena. Even the birds stop to listen. Katniss takes a deep breath and continues, her voice heavy with sorrow, her eyes brimming with tears:

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

_A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray_

_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away_

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

The mockingjays carry her song off across the arena after she finishes. They match her tune and sadness perfectly. It is hauntingly beautiful.

She sits there holding Rue until her cannon fires. Choking back her sobs, she leans forward to kiss Rue tenderly on the temple before carefully laying Rue back on the ground.

Posy stirs in my arms. "Katniss sings so pretty," she sniffles.

"Yes, she does," I whisper, smoothing her hair.

I am now strangely unmoved by Rue's death. It was always going to be. I hear my thoughts shift to cold calculation. We're down to six. Five if you don't count Peeta (and you shouldn't). Only two Careers are left and the two most vulnerable ones Katniss would have felt conflicted over killing have been eliminated. She can win this. She really can.

Katniss takes Marvel's pack and retrieves the arrow that ended his life. She carefully cuts Rue's pack from her back and sets them all aside before returning to look upon Rue's small crumpled form. She should be leaving now so they can collect the bodies. What is she doing? What is keeping her there? She has done all she could do, including killing Rue's killer, so what is she doing? Thinking? She looks…angry.

_I_ am angry …at the boy, the Gamemakers , the Peacekeepers, the stylists, the escorts, the Capitol, and Snow. _Everyone_ who makes these Games possible. But Katniss- she doesn't think like I do. She's not angry and rebellious. Not like I am. At least- she never has been before.

For some reason, I know I will always see this moment- Rue's death- as a defining moment in my life. Even _the_ defining moment. A crossroads. Before Rue's death and after. Why Rue's death as opposed to the hundreds of others I have seen in my lifetime? Because she is Katniss' ally? No, it is so much more than that. Rue represents all of the good and innocence our government deliberately destroys. It could so easily have been Katniss. Or Prim. Or Posy. It might easily have been Prim there with Rue instead of Katniss. And- Prim wouldn't have been able to fight back, either.

But this isn't really about Rue or Prim or even Posy. It isn't about one girl or one family or even one district. It is about one government. An evil government. They must be stopped. Defied. Now. An end put to it. No matter the cost. No longer will my hatred towards the Capitol be contained to raging impotently in the forest. It has become focused. Alive. Functioning. Growing. Maturing. Purposeful. Ripening. Rue's death has crystallized my reason for being. And given me my life's mission. A mission to build a rebellion- a _real_ rebellion- here in District Twelve. Starting now.

We have cut away from Katniss to a view of Cato and Clove discussing the two cannon blasts. Marvel must have found Katniss and Peeta, they conclude. It is the only explanation they can come up with for two closely spaced cannon blasts. They're not very imaginative. They discuss whether they should go after Thresh or Marvel next. Since Marvel is apparently having such a successful day they decide on Thresh. Marvel can hunt down the girl from Five for them. They make a lot of assumptions. Over-confident Careers.

I am torn in two by my conflicting emotions. Fragmented into pieces of my old self. One side of me is actually _glad_ Marvel killed Rue. It eliminated any possibility of it coming down to Katniss and Rue at the end. And, it gave Katniss no choice but to make her first real kill. It makes it easier for Katniss to kill the remaining tributes….remaining _children_ the other side of me interjects. This makes me no better than the Capitol audience, rooting for the deaths of innocent children. I am consumed with rage against the Capitol for revealing my two halves. For causing them both to come out at the same time- and debate, analyze, emote. I realize a part of me is indistinguishable from them. The Capitol has destroyed my innocence. The belief that I was better than them. Destroyed a part of my soul. Yes, this inner change has cost me something immeasurable. It will cost them _everything._ Their power (for I will dethrone them). Their lives (for I will kill them). They would be surprised just how far I'm willing to go (all the way).

They cut back to Katniss, a close-up of her face as she bids Rue goodbye. "Bye, Rue," she whispers, pressing three fingers to her lips, kissing them and holding them out towards Rue. The same farewell gesture we gave to her after she volunteered to take Prim's place in the Games. A gesture of love and respect. She turns and finally walks away.

As the hovercrafts appear, they show a shot of the bodies. Rue's body is covered in a profusion of purple, yellow and white flowers. Katniss has decorated her body in flowers! This is something never before seen in the Games. To honor Rue's death in such a way…to treat Rue's death as something to mourn…a very rebellious act. Why? Katniss isn't one to take risks for principle. To make political statements. She just isn't. This is personal.

I knew the Games would change her. They have changed me as well. My two halves have struggled and one has emerged the victor. One half has become the whole. Me. But I didn't expect this kind of change from Katniss. She isn't rebellious by nature. I'm sure the Capitol didn't expect it either. Will they punish her? Ensure she loses? The commentators don't mention the flowers, but they are bright and colorful, announcing their presence to the whole country more eloquently than any commentator could. Everyone will see that Katniss mourns Rue's death.

As the hovercrafts depart, the arena comes alive with music once again. Katniss stops to look at a small black bird that lands on a nearby branch. It sings Rue's melody sweetly.

Katniss smiles and speaks to the bird, "Good and safe," she says as if reassuring a toddler. She passes under the bird's branch, "We don't have to worry about her now," she tells us. No, we don't have to worry for Rue anymore. She is beyond the reach of the Capitol. Resting in peace. Well-loved by many.

Cato and Clove spend the afternoon hunting Thresh in the grain field. Without success. They give up at sunset and return to the lake where their meal is delivered by parachute. Again.

Thresh and Ginger are both hiding far away from the other remaining tributes.

Katniss is wandering about, taking no pains to be stealthy or quiet. Daring them. Spoiling for a fight? I know I am. Even if she is looking for a fight she would be better off sneaking up on someone. Not giving them a "fair" chance because they hear her coming. _Come on, think Katniss! This is no time to give into grief! You are a hunter. Act like one. You decide when to engage. You find the prey. They don't find you._

The Gamemakers won't interfere to bring the remaining players together today. We've had two deaths today…four in the past two days. They don't like when the Games end too quickly.

At sunset, a parachute is shown floating through the arena. We finally see it land at Katniss' feet. What is Haymitch sending her? She has plenty of food and water from the combined supplies.

Katniss unwraps it, finding a small, dark, crescent-shaped loaf of bread. It's an odd gift considering she has an adequate supply of food.

Katniss smiles. It means something to her. But, what? I've never seen it in District Twelve. She turns her face skyward. "My thanks to the people of District Eleven," she calls to the sky.

District Eleven? Rue's district sent Katniss bread? As a thank you? For befriending Rue? For shrouding Rue's body in flowers. Yet another unusual occurrence, I note. The announcers are equally puzzled. They tell us no tribute has ever received a gift from a different district in the history of the Games. The Capitol doesn't like surprises, I also note -

Posy suddenly starts talking to a person in the row behind me, leaning over my shoulder. "Hey! Didn't you think Katniss sang pretty?" she says much too loudly.

"Ssshhh, Posy," I shush, looking back over my shoulder apologetically. And, come face to face with Madge, who was smiling at Posy's antics. I don't recognize the people she is sitting with. "Madge," I whisper. "Why are you back there alone? We have an extra seat."

She smiles awkwardly, "I thought maybe you were saving it…for Daphne."

I roll my eyes and whisper back, "No. I don't know where she is, but there is no _real _reason for her to sit here." I wonder for a moment if she is going to start a discussion with me now, but she knows better than to attract the attention of the Peacekeepers. And they _will_ keep the peace during a mandatory viewing in the square. She slides into the seat next to me and Posy.

Posy reaches for her and before I know it she is cuddled against Madge's body. A body with soft curves. I wonder how Madge handled the two deaths we just sat through. I was so absorbed in my inner thoughts that I didn't even notice her behind us.

"Are you okay?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"Not really, but we can't talk about it here," she says back, perfectly composed. Does she contain tears or fury? Somehow I think her thoughts are closer to mine than to those who openly weep but who will never do anything about injustice. We sit in contemplative silence. Posy drifts off to sleep in Madge's arms.

Soon Katniss decides on a tree, climbing very high before settling in for the night. She eats the District Eleven bread as she awaits the anthem.

Cato and Clove sit in the remains of their camp by the lake after another unsuccessful day hunting for Thresh. They look up expectantly as the anthem begins and the seal of Panem appears in the sky. When Marvel's picture appears, Cato drops his sandwich into his lap in surprise. Clove smiles maliciously when Rue's picture follows, casting a sidelong glance in Cato's direction.

They briefly discuss this new turn of events, correctly concluding that Marvel must have killed Rue and 'District Twelve' (Katniss) killed Marvel in retaliation. They knew that someone set the fires to draw them away from their camp while Katniss destroyed the supplies. Now they knew who Katniss' ally had been. And, Katniss is the only other hunter remaining in the arena. No way had the injured Lover Boy or District Five taken out Marvel. No way had Thresh emerged from his field.

Katniss looks solemnly into the sky as the anthem plays. Her face is impossible to read as her first real kill is shown. When the picture changes to Rue she swallows hard, trying not to cry. _Good girl. You've shed enough tears. Now you need to be a fierce competitor and take out the rest of the tributes and come home. Feed on hate, Katniss, not sadness. Feed on it. It will make you strong._

They show us Peeta, "Katniss, Katniss …see you…once more," he whispers before grimacing in pain. He's still hanging on. Dreaming about seeing her again. That is a hopeless wish unless she ends up having to track him down to put him out of his misery.

With the remaining tributes all resting early tonight, we spend the last couple hours of the broadcast reliving the four most recent deaths and their precipitating events. Every gruesome detail. The torture and mutilation of Angus. Katniss' destruction of the Careers' supplies and her narrow escape. Cato's tantrum resulting in Linux's broken neck. And the scene that begins with Rue's running into the snare. Ending with the deaths of Rue and Marvel.

When the viewing ends, Madge leans close to talk to me, "Can I speak with you for a moment before you leave?"

I ask my mother to wait while I walk Madge home. There are a lot of people who want to wish Katniss' family well, so they will be busy for a while. Once we are away from the crowd, Madge begins speaking.

"I was wondering if you would be able to do me a big favor?" she asks quietly.

A chance to repay her for the food and clothes. "Yes, of course. What?"

She leans closer, using handing Posy over as an excuse to lean closer to my ear, "I need you to teach me how to use my bow."

"What?" my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This was not what I had expected. Why would the mayor's daughter ever need such a skill?

"My father is worried there might be… questions. After the skill she showed blowing up the supplies," her voice is steady and quiet, but her hands are clasped tightly together.

I hadn't considered the risk Madge was taking by claiming to be the one responsible for Katniss' skill with a weapon. But, if the Capitol buys it, then that will be good for everyone. Except possibly Madge. And the Mayor. I wouldn't want to be the Mayor if the Capitol decides he isn't adequately controlling his population. The idea that Madge might be in danger is …unsettling.

"It isn't something you can learn in a few hours. She's been shooting since she was a kid. I couldn't have pulled that off, she is far better than I am. Look, I can show you the basics. It might be enough to make someone believe you could have taught her." Doubtful, but possible.

She smiles at me in relief. "Would it be all right if my father hires you to do some work at the house in the afternoons? Starting Friday? You would leave work after the highlights? He'll make sure you don't lose any pay, so you don't have to worry about feeding your family."

"How is it a favor, then?" I ask, "If I am being _paid_ for it."

"Because you are going to be inconveniencing yourself in order to help me."

Because it is such an _inconvenience_ to spend time teaching a beautiful young girl to shoot a bow when I could be in the dark, dangerous mines with a bunch of sweaty miners. I agree to meet her on Friday after school and turn back toward the square. This will help Katniss, too. She won't have to explain her extraordinary skill if we can pull off this cover story.

As we walk home from the square, I am buffeted by a whirlwind of stormy emotions. The sorrow I expected to feel at Rue's death is completely overshadowed by my hatred towards the Capitol. The fact that I feel more hate than sorrow only serves to make me even _more_ angry. My calling to avenge little Rue's death and the deaths of hundreds of others outweighs my wish to mourn. If President Snow were before me at this moment I would have no problem tearing him limb from limb with my bare hands. Yes, that would be satisfying.

I breathe a sigh of relief when we leave the Everdeens at their door. Prim's overemotional display of grief only serves to decry my lack of it.

My family is blessedly silent as we walk the last few blocks to home. Posy has fallen back asleep in my arms and I tuck her into bed as soon as we get there. I sit on the back steps as I wait for the others to turn in for the night.

As much as I love my family, sometimes I just need to be alone. This is one of those times. How often have I sat here on these steps pondering the challenges in my life and the injustice all around me? The corruption and tyranny that are Panem. My place in all of it. Am I really destined to be no more than a coal miner? A slave to the injustices perpetrated on all the people of the districts.

_Can_ I make a difference? A real, _measurable_ difference? I will not sit idly by while another generation of children is slaughtered. We have to _do_ something. Not simply _talk_ about the injustices. That has been happening for generations. Prepare to fight. Prepare to die if necessary. When necessary. I would rather my whole family die fighting for freedom than to stand around like sheep. I will not wait to see if they will choose one of my siblings to slaughter. Posy will not die in an arena. Not while I have breath in my body. It will not happen because I will not allow it to happen.

If I do not do something to end it- this hatred will consume me. I must let it out. Give it form. An objective. It already has its target.

A long time after the house has gone silent, I finally force myself to go to bed.

_Mockingjays fill the forest, bringing it to life with their song. What is that song? I have heard it before. It is hauntingly beautiful. Sad, but sweet. Bitter sweet, I realize, finally. Yes, bittersweet._

_Posy runs through the forest. Why is she out here? Posy doesn't belong in the forest. She climbs a tree as quickly and nimbly as a squirrel. When did she learn how to do that? She jumps and I trip over my own feet trying to reach her before she hits the ground, but she doesn't hit. She flies! Flies from one tree to the next. As if she has wings._

_Posy is singing the song of the mockingjays. The sad song. The lullaby. I realize it is Rue's lullaby. _

_Suddenly the forest is no longer the woods of District Twelve. It is an arena. A Hunger Games arena. And Posy is in it. No! No, Posy is not in the Hunger Games! She can't be!_

_President Snow comes on the screen. Screen? I'm not in the forest with her anymore. I am watching Posy on a screen. President Snow is addressing me personally through the television._

"_And, just why can't she be, Gale? The Capitol controls everything. You should have realized that no matter how little security you had, how little freedom, there is always more we can take away from you_. _You breathe because I want you to. __There is nothing you could have done to make a difference. We crushed your little rebellion. You never even had a chance. Now, you will see how we deal with Rebels. We will take your children. In your case, we took Posy. The one person you love more than your own life. More than Katniss. Now, she doesn't stand a chance. You will watch her die and know it is all your fault."_

_I sit there screaming at the screen as Posy runs terrified through the arena, chased by bloodthirsty tributes and mutts who have been trained on her scent._

"_I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Take me! Take me instead!" I yell._

_President Snow speaks, but the screen still shows Posy running for her life. A tribute with a spear closing in on her. "No. Death would be too easy a punishment for you. You will watch all of your family die. One by one, knowing it is all your fault."_

_Posy runs into a snare which wraps her in a net, suspended from a tree as the boy closes in. He throws his spear, which pierces Posy's little body. "NO! NO! NO!" I scream over and over. Helpless to save her. Helpless to avenge her._

_Suddenly, the boy is struck in the neck by an arrow. Katniss runs to Posy's side and cuts her down. Katniss is in the arena. Again._

_She holds Posy gently in her arms as she sings the lullaby to her. Lulling her to sleep. To death. A cannon fires and she lays Posy gently down on the ground. She gathers flowers and covers Posy's body in them. Shrouding her death. Hiding the horror of her wound. When she finishes she looks up and it isn't Katniss. It's Madge._

"_Madge? Why is Madge in the arena?" I ask._

_Snow's voice echoes through the TV set. "Everyone you love, Gale. Everyone. Everyone you love will go to the arena."_

_The errant thought comes- I __love__ Madge?_

_Then Rory runs into the clearing, taking in the scene of our sister's murder for the first time. They are all in the arena. "This is all Gale's fault!" Rory yells. "He killed Posy!"_

_They all look towards the boy who shot Posy, Vick lies dead with Katniss' arrow buried in his throat._

"_Vick!" I scream. "No! He isn't a killer! He loves Posy!"_

_Suddenly, there is a loud rumbling in the arena. The ground shakes violently, throwing everyone to the ground. An earthquake. They scream in terror as a loud roaring sound drowns out the rumbling of the earthquake. It sounds like a freight train bearing down on them at full speed._

_The camera pulls back and shows us a widescreen shot of the arena. A huge wave of water is washing across the treetops, swallowing everything in its path. They are flooding the arena, just like they did a few years ago when that crazy girl from District Four won._

"_But, they can't swim!" I hear myself screaming to my empty house. Where is my mother? But I know. She is dead already. Killed when they took away the kids. Fighting to keep them safe. "They can't swim!" I cry. Outraged. Not fair._

_I watch helplessly as they struggle to swim. To survive. One by one they disappear under the waves. Until everyone I love is gone. Posy. Vick. Rory. Katniss. Madge. Dead. And gone. Killed. Murdered by the Capitol. By me. By my rebellion. _

I wake suddenly, my hands shaking. A nightmare. Only a nightmare. I look around the tiny bedroom, making sure everyone is accounted for. Everyone is here. Madge is at home, I remind myself. Everyone is safe. Everyone but Katniss is safe.

It is still dark outside, but I know I won't be getting any more sleep tonight. I get up and walk to the kitchen. I set about making breakfast slowly and deliberately, trying to subdue the rage still boiling inside me. The real nightmare is my life. I concentrate on what I am doing, resisting the urge to do something violent. Like punching a hole in the wall. Or picking a fight with a Peacekeeper patrol. No, I can't afford to let my anger take control. I will master it. Focus it. And turn it on the Capitol. I will defeat them. I have all day. All night, too. I have a lifetime. I smile.

Thursday, Games Day 10

I work mindlessly. Chipping away at the coal seam in front of me. My mind is elsewhere. Very much elsewhere. For the past week my mind has been stuck in the arena with Katniss. Today it has taken on a new mission. I cannot control what happens in Katniss' arena. But, I can begin to make sure Posy, Vick and Rory never see the inside of one. Not them, not their children. Not the generations yet to be born.

For years my focus has been on equipping them to survive both in the district and in an arena. Now I deliberately shift my focus to equipping the district to fight. To rebel. To work towards ending the Games once and for all. It is no longer about protecting only my family. It is about protecting whole future generations.

~Highlights~

It must be a slow day in the arena, as most of the highlights feature the same scenes we saw last night. The last four deaths and the destruction of the supplies. Not much to highlight when we see Katniss still asleep and the others doing nothing more interesting than gathering berries.

After work, Collier and I go for a walk. We talk around the rebellion. He explains they don't have meetings during the Games because the Peacekeepers make more frequent rounds during that time and everyone is expected to be either at home or in the square every night. It makes it impossible for large numbers to find a time and place to gather.

I am nearly speechless at this information. They have large meetings of rebels? Everyone knowing everyone else? Where one set of loose lips or one lucky Peacekeeper patrol could unmask the entire rebellion?

He seems surprised at my obvious disapproval and asks how I think it should be organized. I tell him that a rebellion has to be protected from one infiltrator or one mistake bringing it all crashing down in flames. I sketch out my ideas about limiting the contact between members to two or three people each and having a system of signals and codes to arrange small meetings when an operation needs to be carried out. How each cell is self-contained. How one cell cannot betray another cell. How the cells periodically unite to become one body. A body of rebels. A rebel army. My vision of the rebellion.

He points out that we are too weak to fight. I point out that that will never change if we don't start preparing. We need to train men to fight. We need to surveil the Peacekeepers to learn their schedules and weaknesses. We need to have a plan to access the explosives used in the mines if it ever came to a point where we were ready to make such a bold move.

We need to learn all we can about the security in the district. How is the fence powered? Whose job it is to turn it on and off? How do they communicate with the Capitol? Is there any way to disrupt the communication? Can we intercept these communications? How can we make contact with the other districts? What lies beyond District Twelve? Are there other people outside of Panem?

He looks at me appraisingly as I talk. "I knew you were going to be an important recruit, but I had no idea. You are so…young!" He takes me to meet a "friend."

I'm introduced to an older man named Dougray. We spend an hour getting to know each other before I leave to meet my family at the Everdeens' for the viewing. Collier didn't mention the rebellion, but I think Dougray must be the leader. They are probably discussing me and my ideas right now. I wonder if they think I'm overly ambitious. Fanciful. Or naïve.

~Games~

Tonight we watch the Games at the Everdeens' house. I am restless sitting here watching Katniss sit still in a tree for hours. I don't care what anyone else is doing as long as they aren't hunting her. Really. Don't care who does what or who kills who. As long as it doesn't involve Katniss.

Fortunately, I am sitting quietly in my seat when the Peacekeepers arrive. They record our names and leave without comment.

After sitting perched in her tree for what seems like hours, Katniss finally stirs herself to move. She rearranges the supplies she acquired yesterday, consolidating everything into one pack. She gets some valuable items from Marvel's: a flashlight, a pack of fruit, knives, a first aid kit and a full bottle of water.

She decides to hide the knives and some extra spearheads from his pack before moving out for the day. I think she should have kept the extra knives.

She walks along listlessly for a while before spotting a flock of those strange birds sitting in a tree. She takes out three of them before the first one hits the ground. Wherever she looks, there an arrow appears. _Nice shooting, Catnip. We could have taken them all out if I had been there with you._ In truth, she could have gotten more herself if she had bothered to keep shooting. But, she needs to feed only herself now and three birds will last her several days. I hope it didn't make her remember Rue.

She lights the third fire- the one Rue never got the chance to light- to cook the birds. Right in the middle of the day? Looking for a fight Catnip? Hell yeah, she thinks of Rue. The fire produces a huge amount of smoke, as it was designed to draw attention. She sits, slowly cooking the three grooslings.

The Careers see the smoke, but they won't go where someone is trying to draw them. They won't walk into an ambush. They discuss again who killed Marvel. Do they still agree it was the girl who got the 11? Of course. It was District Twelve (Katniss), they agree. They decide to spend another day hunting Thresh in the grain field, leaving Katniss alone with her birds. HA! They choose big, dangerous-looking Thresh over my little Catnip. Are they afraid of her? It certainly looks that way.

The Gamemakers take this slow day as an opportunity to review the highlights (deaths) of the Games so far. We watch eighteen kids die from a combination of stabbings, beatings, mutation attacks (tracker jackers) butcherings, spearings and but a single shooting. The shooting gets bonus points for producing gushes of blood, all that arterial bleeding from a heart still pumping. Gotta keep the crowd entertained. I'm glad we have already had our Peacekeeper visit tonight, so we can work on distracting Posy and Vick without worrying. Although the Peacekeepers could check in a second time, I don't ever remember them doing so.

Late in the day Katniss returns to the stream, refills her water bottles and climbs a tree. She hasn't seen anyone all day.

They show us shots of all of the remaining tributes as we await the nightly anthem and death toll. Thresh sits quietly in his little grass hut. Ginger huddles at the opening of a small cave. She looks tired, hungry and cold. She is living off of plants now that she can no longer depend on the Careers' supplies to keep her fed. Cato and Clove sit eating another sponsor meal, but it looks measly compared to some of the past ones. They must be losing sponsors to Katniss. Katniss- who can kill her own meal -looks much stronger than the Careers who were afraid to approach her and her fire. The Careers who cannot feed themselves. Peeta is invisible in his muddy grave. They are monitoring his vital statistics with his tracker. His heart is still beating, they tell us clinically.

Tonight's anthem shows no deaths.

Katniss settles down into her sleeping bag to sleep.

"Katniss, safe…" Peeta mumbles from his muddy, vine entwined tomb. Hmm. I don't understand how he is still even alive, much less able to pay attention to the nightly anthem and death toll.

Trumpets blare unexpectedly in the arena. They must be calling the tributes to a feast. The crowds in the Capitol must be getting antsy after such a slow day. Katniss doesn't need anything. She won't go. Not unless it's to climb a tree early and pick off tributes as they arrive. Yes, that would actually be an excellent strategy. The others are not as well supplied as she is. It is probable everyone but Peeta will attend.

Claudius Templesmith's voice fills the arena, "Congratulations to the six remaining contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games! There has been a rule change effective immediately for these Games." Rule change? There are no rules! "Under this new rule, _both_ tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive." _Both tributes? Two winners? What? _He pauses and repeats the rule change. "If the last two tributes alive are from the same district they will both be declared winners." Katniss and Peeta could _both_ win. Except, Peeta won't survive long enough to leave the arena.

We see Katniss perched in her tree sit up suddenly at this announcement. "_PEETA!"_ she calls into the silent night.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

I know, I know! Please don't hate me for ending it there!

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: iluvHG, wisegirly, Painted Fire, marie, Gimjamjelly, invisibleunicornz, fallenfaeangel, Pinklove21, MsCassity, Samola, Jau0062, neopsycho9, darrena, FlamingArrows, PerfectTwo, AODiva1978, TeamKatniss7, Renae X, HabsGirl31, cdtspecialk and Forest Bug.

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

_Please_ leave a review and tell me what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note:

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 19**

Thursday night, Games Day 10

"_PEETA!"_ Katniss clasps her hands over her mouth. I rake my fingers through my hair. She called out his name. She _shouted._ Tangential thought distracts: which is worse, the name or the shout? The shout. Definitely_. _ Why did she do it? Overcome by…foolishness? …sentimentality?

I jump to my feet and begin pacing back and forth. I'm stunned. Beyond stunned. She gave away her position calling out _his _name. She's being _hunted_. She can die! Never see Prim again. Break Prim's heart. (And me? And me?) I push the thought away. One of us must get back on track now. How could she be so foolish? What is she feeling? Relief! She sounded relieved. _Excited?_ Because she won't have to kill him? Or because she has an ally. Because he can live. How has she formed such a tight bond with him that she involuntarily calls out his name? In a life or death situation. _One perfect night_ intrudes into my thoughts, but I thrust it angrily aside.

The announcers are dumbfounded about the rule change, but the woman is squealing in excitement about Katniss' outcry. "Did you _hear_ her? Oh my! How sweet! How _romantic!" _

_How foolish! How reckless! _I finish for her. I stand gripping the back of my chair, facing the TV once more.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers, answering her back. Or edited to look that way. Again. He smiles. Of _course_ he does! He's been working this angle all along! But, he couldn't have known they would change the rules. It's never been done before. Does he think he still has a chance? To see her again, maybe. But not to survive. There is no way they are coming home together. Even if he manages to survive his injuries, there is no way the Capitol is _ever_ going to allow two winners, no matter what they said.

She has no idea how badly he's injured. She's still not going to be able to save him. Not unless she manages to kill _everyone_ else before he succumbs to his injuries. Quickly. Which is lunacy to even contemplate. Not gonna happen. Katniss is having zero luck with allies. She does not even choose her own. Rue chose her. And the Capitol has chosen Peeta. He is even weaker than Rue. A weak, incapacitated Peeta who will require protection and nursing is not an ally. He's a liability. Katniss is not a nurse. When she sees how badly he is injured, she'll want to run for the hills. About all he is good for is bait.

Why did the Capitol do it? They hate surprises, I note. And they just introduced an uncontrollable variable into the Games making the outcome entirely unpredictable, I also note. As for me, I wonder how it will affect sponsorship gifts and the betting odds. How will this affect the remaining tributes? There are six tributes left, but really it is more like four: Team Katniss & Peeta, Team Cato & Clove, Thresh and Ginger. Two teams and two single players.

Cato and Clove are high fiving and hugging each other. "We are unstoppable! Unstoppable!" they chant, dancing around their fire. How appropriate- the barbarians are dancing around a fire. Humph. "We are _both_ going home!" Celebrating a little early, aren't we?

Thresh and Ginger look simply bewildered. I wonder if Thresh is thinking about Rue. If they had made this rule change yesterday, he could've teamed up with her. She might still be alive.

We see shots of people in the Capitol cheering. They are celebrating what they see as a victory. The Gamemakers bowed to public opinion. For what must be the first time ever. The sponsors must've been putting a lot of pressure on the Gamemakers or whoever has enough clout to actually make such a decision. Their supposed romance must be getting a lot of play in the Capitol. How can these people get so caught up in the story of a teenage romance? How can they see the separation of two teen lovers as tragic all the while cheering on the deaths of other teenagers?

The Capitol citizens, they are the ones who demanded this with their sponsorship money. But, why would the Gamemakers agree to introduce such risks? They are never in complete control of tributes and their reactions in the arena, but this is unprecedented. Most dangerous to them.

We are also shown shots of the squares in Districts Two and Twelve. Two looks as if they are celebrating a victory. An imminent victory. They fully expect to bring home the crown this year. Their tributes are the only Careers left, after all.

The crowd in Twelve looks more shocked than victorious. One of our contenders is gravely wounded and our two tributes aren't even together. And - we haven't had a victor in twenty-four years. They look resigned to suffer yet another cruelty. A false hope dangling just out of reach. Maybe.

They bring the mentors out to the City Circle for their reactions. The crowd goes wild, cheering for their favorites. The Victors are major celebrities in the Capitol. I have never understood why. They were merely the luckiest, smartest or most vicious in a random group of children chosen to fight to the death in a given year. They killed other children to survive. Why the Capitol citizens find them so fascinating may have something to do with the fact that they have never had to fight to survive. Never been hungry. Never been subject to the reaping. Victors are exotic and a bit dangerous. Must be exciting. Stimulating.

Since everything in the Games is always done by district number, we first hear from the District Two mentor, Enobaria. She's probably been mentoring those two for years, given the way things supposedly work in the Career districts. She praises the decision to allow two victors and assures her district they will bring it home yet again this year. She bares her surgically enhanced golden fangs for the audience, reminding us all just how cut-throat tributes from Two can be.

Next up is Jules, a man of around thirty, from Five. I don't remember ever seeing him before. But, I surely must have seen his Games. What is it with the District Five people? Are they all so unmemorable? Nondescript? He praises Ginger's cleverness and insists it isn't a handicap to his tribute to be alone against the others. It has always been her strategy to outlast the others. Alone. She will kill only her last opponent and let the others do the work for her. Clever. District Five is known for cleverness. And power generation.

The mentor from Eleven is an older woman with olive skin and black hair streaked with silver. Her name is Seeder. Something about her reminds me of my grandmother. She is soft-spoken and direct. She laments that the rule change wasn't made one day earlier so that her two tributes could have benefited from it. A risky thing to do. Criticizing the Capitol for how it runs the Games. Criticizing them period. To criticize them for anything is considered treason. Punishable by death. Victors can get away with a little more than the rest of us, apparently. This I note for future reference.

Finally, we see our very own District Twelve Victor, Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the Second Quarter Quell. He praises the decision to allow two victors, saying it was what everyone wanted this year.

"Everyone wants Peeta and Katniss to be together. For Peeta to get the girl he has loved forever. No one wants the lovers to have to spend another day apart, especially not me. They'll win and we will all get to welcome them back to the Capitol when the Games end."

Does he really _believe_ that? That they have a chance to win, together? That the Capitol intends to allow two victors?

Friday, Games Day 11

~Highlights~

"_PEETA!"_ we see Katniss clasp her hands over her mouth. That scene was from last night- but they just couldn't resist including it in this morning's highlights. Peeta is shown camouflaged in his riverbank. Katniss is shown tracking him. She slips stealthily through the forest, her eyes on the forest floor. She finds the location of the tracker jacker attack. We see Cato and Clove on the hunt in the forest. Ginger is scavenging in the obliterated Career supply pile yet again.

~Archery Lessons~

After the highlights are over I head home to wash up and change before meeting Madge for her first lesson. I don't want to arrive before she is home from school, so I decide to meet her there and walk home with her.

It's a little odd being back at school now that I am no longer a student. I watch the older kids rounding up the younger ones as Katniss and I used to do. It is now Rory's job to walk Prim and Vick home. I wonder if Katniss will return to school after she wins. I don't think Victors are required to go to school. What will she do with her days? Hunt, probably. Sulk, definitely.

I scan the groups of kids as they exit, looking for Madge's long, wavy golden hair. I spot a group of merchant girls leaving, but she isn't among them.

Following close on their heels is a group of Seam girls. One of them detaches herself from the group, her eyes fixated on me as she approaches.

"Gale, what a lovely surprise!" she gushes, threading her arm through mine.

"Daphne," I sigh in irritation.

"Do you have the afternoon off? Maybe we could go somewhere. To be alone," she trails her fingernails lightly up my arm.

I disentangle myself from her clutches. "Uh..no. Sorry, I have plans."

She pouts her lip, batting her eyelashes at me. "Couldn't you change them?"

I look back towards the school and see Madge staring at us. "No. Gotta go." I hurry over to Madge without a backward glance.

Madge suddenly heads for the street when she sees me coming. "Madge! Wait up," I call.

She stops. "I didn't expect to see you here," she says, looking back towards Daphne.

"We have plans, don't we?" I ask.

She finally looks up with a small smile. "Yes, we do."

We turn towards the Mayor's house and I take her books for her. I can feel Daphne's eyes boring a hole in my back. _Jealous?_ Definitely. But, of Madge? Or of Katniss?

I know I'm considered a prime catch in the Seam. I'm strong enough to work in the mines and I can hunt to provide for my family. And, the girls make no secret of the fact they find me attractive. Not that I have any plans to get married anytime soon. Even if Katniss could be persuaded to think of me as I do of her, we can't afford to have any extra mouths to feed right now. Not until Rory and Vick are grown. We agree on that, at least. I've not even kissed Katniss, although I've thought about it more than once. I've kissed lots of girls but not the one - . Well, she would probably hit me if I tried. Really. She's not ready for that kind of relationship. Maybe she never will be.

And, as far as Madge goes, it isn't as if the Mayor's daughter would ever look at a coal miner in a romantic way. So, Daphne shouldn't feel a need to be jealous of Madge. Daphne is the last girl I kissed, too, ironically enough. And I've never kissed Madge. So, of course, at the thought, I find my eyes drawn to Madge's full lips. Hmmm. What would she do if I tried? Recoil? Stand still in shock? Respond to the attraction she once admitted to? I am quite confident to try such a thing (so "experienced" and all) but now is not the time.

We arrive at her house and find Annis waiting with a snack for us. Do they eat all day long, I wonder? Madge is uncharacteristically quiet as we eat.

Before long, Madge leads me down to the basement where she has an archery range set up. An actual archery range with a real target.

"Madge, is there something wrong? You've been very quiet this afternoon."

She trails her fingers along the edge of a table as she answers, "No. I was just wondering about Daphne. She seems very…_attached_ to you. After her interview I got the impression from you that she was…in the past."

"She is. I had no idea she was going to say she was my girlfriend. We broke up nearly a year ago and I have no plans to change that."

I see her mouth pulling up at one corner as she looks at me sideways, "Despite her hanging all over you outside of school."

"Yes. Despite that."

She pulls out a large wooden case, with a metal plate bearing an inscription: "Diana M. Fletcher, United States Olympic Archery Team," I read, looking questioningly at Madge.

"My great great _great_ grandmother. Archery used to be practiced as a sport. Before Panem."

"And, 'United States Olympic'?" I ask, feeling an adrenaline rush. We are never taught about the history that preceded Panem. Not any true history.

"I think that was the name of Panem before the wars." I find myself wondering about this country that had time for leisure sports. Where they let people own and train with weapons. And even their women were armed. United States Olympic.

She opens the case, revealing her bow. It is beautiful, made of a dark red wood, so polished it gleams. There are several medals in the case as well.

"Are these gold?" I ask, pointing to the medals.

"Yes, a gold medal was awarded for first place in a competition." She lifts one of the medals and hands it to me. It's surprisingly heavy.

"Diana M. Fletcher. Gold Medalist, Women's Individual Archery, 2212 Olympics, London," I read. My mind is fascinated with these little clues to the past. I wonder what Olympics, London was like. Is the number some kind of an address? The score that earned her the medal?

Madge lifts the bow from its case and hands it to me. I am almost afraid to touch it. It is elegantly curved and meticulously crafted. It makes the bows Katniss and I use to hunt look crude by comparison. I suppose ours are, having been made by Katniss' father from what he could scavenge in the forest. This bow is a work of art. A masterpiece.

"Your grandmother must have been an excellent shot. Do you suppose she ever competed against Katniss' grandmother?" Madge laughs at that.

I examine it carefully, looking for cracks or signs of age that might make it too fragile to actually use. Madge tells me the case protects it, keeping the humidity optimal for the bow. She tells me both her mother and aunt used it. A family heirloom, she has been oiling it regularly to keep it supple and preserved.

I find myself wondering how many other merchant families have antique weapons stored someplace. I flex the bow, testing it. It is strong, springing back into shape when I release it.

Madge hands me the string and we spend the next half hour teaching her how to properly string and unstring the bow, until she can do it easily herself.

I take a few test shots at the target to get a feel for it, before handing it to Madge. We work on the proper stance. How to plant her feet. How to hold her arms.

Madge is wearing shorts and a tank top; her arms bare. I take her arm in my hands, caressing the soft skin of her inner arm. She looks up at me innocently as I do. Questioningly.

"You might want to put on long sleeves before you shoot. I wouldn't want you to get a string burn on this soft skin."

She swallows before answering, "You're wearing short sleeves."

"I have a lot more practice. And, my skin isn't….delicate." She blushes easily, I note.

We stand there in silence for a moment before the spell is broken. "There is an arm guard in the case." She steps away to retrieve it, and straps it to her forearm.

We move into position. Focus on the target. Madge places her feet shoulder width apart. I hand her the bow. I stand behind her as she lifts the bow into position. "Straighten your bow arm," I say, touching it gently. "Now, grip the string like I showed you. Good. Now pull it back in one smooth motion. Good. Now anchor it."

"Anchor it?" she asks.

"Your mouth."

"My mouth?" she asks in surprise.

I reach around her, taking her grip hand in one of mine and her pull hand in the other. "Like this," I pull it back, touching the side of her mouth with my fingers. "Close your eyes. You need to get the feel of the bow."

She closes her eyes and we repeat the motion several times. Pulling back the string, touching it to her mouth. Slowly relaxing it. "Relax. You need to relax. The strength comes from your back, not just your arms." We repeat the motion. A dozen more times as she finally relaxes into it. I remove my arms from around her.

"Okay, good. Now, you do it yourself. Close your eyes again. The pull should become instinctive. It should go to your anchor point without you thinking about it. Remember, use your back. Pretend you are trying to touch your shoulder blades together."

I watch as she practices pulling and anchoring again and again. "I think you've got it," I finally say.

She starts laughing as she lowers the bow.

"What?"

She continues to laugh as she tries to answer me, "How am I ever going to hit anything with my eyes closed?"

"Oh, we'll get to that. Right now we are working on the basics. When you are ready to shoot, you'll have your eyes open. Right now I just don't want you distracted."

She laughs harder at that, wiping tears from her eyes. "No. It's not distracting at all," she sputters. She takes a deep breath, fighting for her composure. And I thought I was the one being distracted.

"Are you ready to go on?" I ask.

She nods her head vigorously, obviously not quite trusting herself to speak.

"Okay, this time eyes open. Aim for the target while you pull. Arm straight. Good. Relax. Don't strangle the bow. When you pull back the pressure holds the bow in place. Not your fingers. If you grip it too tightly, it will misdirect your arrow."

"Arrow? You mean I'm going to get to use an _actual_ arrow?" teasingly looking back over her shoulder at me. I strangle the thought trying to come to mind.

She's actually being very patient. We've been down here for several hours working on her form and I haven't considered giving her arrows, yet. "Once I'm satisfied with your form, we'll try some arrows."

She smiles and turns back to her practicing while I examine her form from behind. A very nice view of her form, too. Perfect. Did I say that aloud?

"Good. Relax your grip hand. Keep your arm straight. Push it towards your target."

She lowers her bow, looking towards the clock on the wall. "It's almost time for dinner. Will you stay?"

"I should probably go home for dinner, but I think you deserve to take a real shot before we call it quits for the day."

She happily shows me a second case, where she got the arrows I tested the bow with. There is a leather quiver and about a hundred arrows. A _hundred?_ Wow. I pull out an arrow to examine it. Perfectly straight, impressive fletching. I don't know what they are made of, but it isn't wood. The tips are metal, but not very sharp. They wouldn't bring down anything substantial. Madge tells me they are target tips, designed to do the least damage to the target. Makes sense, if all you do is shoot at a target for sport.

We take a few arrows back to the target, and I hand her one. She takes her stance, nocks the arrow and raises the bow. She pulls it back and releases it, barely missing the bull's-eye.

"Oooh!" she stomps her foot in frustration, which causes me to smile.

"Wow, no, that was _really_ good for your first shot. Here, let's try again," I hand her the second arrow.

She positions herself. I move closer, putting my hand on the shoulder of her drawing arm, speaking softly. "Drop your shoulder. Relax your grip. Touch your mouth. Breathe in. Release."

She releases the arrow and we stand motionless while it finds its way to the target, hitting with a solid thwack. Solidly in the bullseye this time. Not dead center, but any animal would be…dead, I mean.

"I did it!" she squeals, throwing her arms around me. I hug her back, smiling down at her upturned face, glowing in pleasure.

"You certainly did. I think we're going to pull this off. You're a natural."

"It's in the genes", Madge responds. Nice genes, I say silently.

~Games~

Mrs. Undersee insists I stay for dinner, but I decline to watch the Games with them. I make it home just in time for the beginning of the mandatory viewing.

Katniss sets out to find Peeta. I actually hope she doesn't find him. At least not in time. Watching him die would only interfere with her focus. If she at least makes what appears to be a sincere effort to find him, the sponsors won't hold it against her. Not consciously, anyway. I sigh. She will find him. I know she will. She is an experienced hunter, and he isn't so very far from the last place she saw him. Although, he _is_ amazingly well-camouflaged.

The audience is apparently rowdy and demanded an unprecedented rule change. For the _star-crossed lovers_. Are the Gamemakers losing control? Of the tributes. Of the audience. Of their own reactions. Have they lost sight of the ultimate purpose of the Games while in pursuit of entertainment? They should be more concerned with keeping the Districts in line. Punishing them, not entertaining them. Not giving us hope for something "good" to come out of the Games. Well, I 'm not sure if _I_ would consider it good for them both to come home, but many would.

Anyway, I don't believe for a _minute_ they intend to actually have _two_ victors. They just want to mess with Katniss, I realize. I wish I knew exactly what she did to get that eleven. For some reason, the Gamemakers are fixated on her. First they provide the bow for her. Then the wall of fire and fireballs chasing after her with commentators ready with their canned "Girl on Fire". Now this rule change designed specifically for her. To _chain_ her to Peeta. They pretend to bow to their fans while actually diminishing Katniss' odds. May the odds be never in her favor.

Katniss works her way back to the site of the tracker jacker attack. She looks about, trying to decide which direction to go. _Come on Katniss, what have I taught you about tracking? What does everyone need to survive? Shelter and water. Badly wounded so he needs to be near both._ Who knew mud could be a shelter? She tracks him to the stream and sees the bloodstains. As she works her way slowly upstream, she comes nearer and nearer. If he isn't awake, she may walk right by him.

They change the scene to Cato and Clove hunting in the woods. They have recovered from their initial euphoria over the announcement and Clove is questioning Cato sharply.

"But, why did they make this change? It can't be for the _star-crossed lovers_. I thought you said he was as good as dead?" Clove questions.

"He should be! I know I cut him all the way to the bone. He should have bled to death by now," Cato insists.

"Lover Girl must be one hell of a nurse," Clove infers. Lover Girl? That's a new one.

"I don't know. But, if she was warming up _my_ sleeping bag it might make me want to hang on a little longer, too." Ugh! She isn't going to warm up his sleeping bag. He doesn't even have a sleeping bag, I realize. They'll have to sleep in shifts. If he is well enough to take a watch at all.

Clove throws him a disgusted look, "Yeah, well Girl on Fire is gonna burn when we get our hands on her. I'm gonna burn her at the stake. Then carve her…like steak."

The announcers are getting more and more excited as Katniss closes in on Peeta's location. They can't believe she tracked him so easily. Of course she did. She's an experienced hunter. I can't believe he is still alive after- what is it- six days? Six days with no food, little water, that serious injury and three tracker jacker stings. I'm with Cato. He _should _be dead. Days ago.

She is within a few feet of him when she calls out his name "Peeta! Peeta!"

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" he croaks. _Sweetheart? He calls her 'sweetheart'? _Ugh. Here we are, rooting for life and death and he takes the opportunity for romance. This guy has a one-track mind.

She jumps back, startled when his voice comes out of nowhere. She spins in a circle, unable to locate him. "Peeta?" she whispers. "Where are you?" She takes a few small, uncertain steps closer to him. "Peeta?"

"Well, don't step on me."

She jumps back, looking down at her feet. He opens his eyes and she gasps, causing him to laugh and giving us a glimpse of his white teeth through the layers of mud.

"Close your eyes again," she orders and he does. She looks him over critically, amazed at his camouflage job. She drops to her knees beside him. "I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off," she says a bit in awe. Yes, all that time at the camouflage station was time well-spent. I had thought he just didn't know what else to do.

Peeta smiles at her. "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying."

"You're not going to die," she informs him sternly. Determinedly.

"Says who?" he asks raggedly.

"Says me. We're on the same team now, you know."

"So, I heard. Nice of you to find what's left of me."

She gives him a drink of water from one of her bottles, "Did Cato cut you?"

"Left leg. Up high," he answers.

"Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kinds of wounds you've got."

"Lean down a minute first. Need to tell you something." Katniss leans down, putting her ear close to his mouth. Peeta whispers something into her ear and she pulls back, laughing. What could they possibly find to laugh at?

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind," she smiles in amusement.

She proceeds to dig him out of the mud, pulling and tugging until the mud finally releases him. He has been gritting his teeth to stifle his reactions, but he releases several sharp cries of pain and tears are making tracks through the mud on his cheeks.

"Look Peeta, I'm going to roll you into the stream. It's very shallow here, okay?" she says encouragingly.

"Excellent," he says through gritted teeth.

"On three," she positions her hands below him. "One, two, three!" she rolls him over onto his stomach and again onto his back before stopping. He is struggling to contain screams now, making some horrible choked noises as he does. He's at the edge of the stream, finally.

"Okay, change of plans," Katniss announces. "I'm not going to put you all the way in."

"No more rolling?" he asks hopefully.

"That's all done. Let's get you cleaned up. Keep an eye on the woods for me, okay?" She looks him over, uncertain where to start. He is so caked in mud. She starts washing the mud off using her three bottles of water; propping the empty ones to refill in the stream as she washes him.

They cut to a scene of Cato and Clove hunting in the woods. They saw Katniss' fire and decided to go investigate it today. They are approaching it cautiously, suspicious that it is a trap. Which it would be if the Gamemakers weren't playing games with Katniss.

When they cut back to Katniss and Peeta, she is cutting his undershirt off with her hunting knife. She props him up against a boulder to wash the dirt from his hair and face. She digs out the stingers and applies Rue's leaves to his stings, causing him to sigh in relief. I count four stingers as she pulls them out. FOUR! Not the three the announcers originally counted.

Unbelievable. Nobody survives four, mind intact. He had the presence of mind to play to the cameras for Katniss sake. He has the constitution of an ox to not have succumbed to his injuries long since. And an even stronger will; to wake up each night to check the death count despite everything. Mind - body - spirit. I am impressed in spite of myself. If he hadn't been trying to save Katniss, he just may have won it all.

She washes out his clothes and applies her precious burn ointment to a long burn on his chest. I'm glad she seems very businesslike as she sits there rubbing her hands on his chest. She rifles through the medical kit and comes up with some pills. He swallows the pills, but resists the food she tries to coax him into eating.

"Thanks. I'm much better, really. Can I sleep now, Katniss?" he asks. He'll say anything to get her to stop. He's totally wiped out from staying awake so long and enduring her nursing. He wants to slip back into his delirium.

"Soon," she promises. "I need to look at your leg first." She removes his boots and socks before beginning to inch his pants off. Couldn't she just cut off the pant-leg over the wound? Is it really necessary to completely undress him?

The wound is bad. Very bad. Red, inflamed, oozing both blood and puss. Katniss looks as if she is going to be sick. As if she would like nothing better than to bolt into the woods. But she won't. There is no one else to help him and she won't abandon him, no matter how hard it is. Katniss is tough.

I can tell by the looks Prim and Mrs. E. exchange that it is as bad as I think.

"Pretty awful, huh?" Peeta asks, watching her as if he feels sorry for her.

"So-so," she shrugs. "You should see some of the people they bring my mother from the mines." She fails to mention that she clears out at the first sign of injury or illness. "First thing is to clean it well." She treats the burns and scrapes before looking at the deep gash. She looks totally lost. Overwhelmed. "Why don't we give it some air and then…" she trails off uncertainly.

"And then you'll patch it up?" he offers, filling in the comforting words she should be offering him.

Katniss experiments, cleaning the wound and using some of Rue's leaves which cause his leg to begin leaking copious amounts of pus. She looks a little green.

Surprisingly, they banter back and forth as she works on his leg. She talks with him so easily. It is so _un_-Katniss. Peeta is able to distract her from the worst of it long enough for her to finish cleaning and bandaging it without losing her breakfast. She doesn't have the natural skill of her mom nor Prim, but she managed to do a decent job, and with very limited supplies. I am impressed.

She looks critically at her bandaging job before pulling out Rue's backpack. "Here, cover yourself with this and I'll wash your shorts." Ugh. _This_ I do not need to see.

Ha, I see that neither does she.

"Oh, I don't care if you see me," Peeta smiles. I bet you don't. One-track mind.

"You're just like the rest of my family," Katniss claims. "I care, all right?" she blushes, turning her back on him. She's _embarrassed_ about him being naked. I find myself smiling. Their supposed _one perfect night _obviously didn't include him removing his shorts.

Rory and Prim are laughing over this exchange.

Peeta struggles out of his undershorts and tosses them into the stream. "You know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person." Yes, she is. He watches her beat his shorts between two rocks. "I wish I'd let you give Haymitch a shower after all."

These Capitol nights are becoming more and more disturbing. Give Haymitch a shower? Just what goes on in the Capitol anyway?

Well, it is evident they have some kind of bond. But, she has obviously never seen a grown boy nude. Never seen _him_ nude. The more I think about it, the more I doubt there was anything to their _one perfect night_. Beyond Peeta playing up their star-crossed lovers angle for the cameras, of course.

She lets Peeta rest, shielded by Rue's backpack, while his clothes dry. She surveys the nearby area for a place to hide while he recovers. Eventually, she gets him redressed and they slowly make their way to a nearby cave. She is practically carrying him. As large as he is, it's clear they aren't going any further.

She settles him down into her sleeping bag while she camouflages the entrance. The Gamemakers must have a million cameras in the arena, because there is even one inside the cave.

He thanks her for finding him. She strokes his forehead tenderly as he talks.

"Look, if I don't make it back -" he begins.

"Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," she insists.

"I know. But just in case I don't -" he tries again.

"No Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," Katniss places her fingers on his lips to quiet him.

"But I -" he tries again.

Katniss quickly leans in and presses her lips to his. She's kissing him to shut him up! Her first kiss! Or was there really a perfect night before the Games? No, it's her first kiss. Her first kiss shouldn't be with _him_. And, it shouldn't be _there_. Not in the Hunger Games. Certainly not for the voyeuristic pleasure of the Capitol.

Hey, he just stole her first kiss! That should've been mine. Would've been mine. Her first kiss was meant to be with _me_. _Here_. In our woods. And definitely alone. If only I had realized that refusing to shut up was the way to get her to kiss me. Argue with her until she wanted me to shut up was all I had to do? Would she have kissed me if I had continued to argue that we should run away the morning of the reaping?

She pulls back, tucking him securely into the sleeping bag "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?"

"All right," he whispers.

She steps out of the cave and a parachute floats down to her. She grabs it and nearly tears it apart in anticipation. She looks briefly disappointed before getting a determined look about her. The sponsor gift is a pot of broth. Kind of a strange gift, but maybe Peeta can't really stomach anything else. Some kind of medicine would have been more appropriate, obviously. Maybe they don't have enough sponsors for the kind of medicine he needs. Probably not. Gifts get more expensive as each day passes and this is day eleven, after all. He is clearly beyond the kind of natural cures Mrs. Everdeen uses here in Twelve. He needs Capitol medicine.

Katniss returns to the cave, "Peeta!" she calls in a sweet, melodic voice I have never before heard come out of her mouth. The mouth that just kissed Peeta. She leans down and kisses him awake. Ugh, all this kissing. She shows him the broth. "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you," she coos. And, Katniss doesn't coo. Just what the hell is she doing?

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: WithNightlockInOurHands, darrena, Renae X, Iwanttheboywiththebread13, blondey, HabsGirl31, neopsycho9, 22Moons, gabz1197, xSparklyStarsx, Marie, Liyah2013, FlamingArrows, MsCassity, Forest Bug, AODiva1978, Maddy Hawthorne, AliceW, The Magic of the Night, capery, PerfectTwo, Pinklove21, Lorelei Eve, Acadia Flynn Mellark and invisibleunicornz.

Thanks to yellow sunshine eb who just reviewed chapter 8 (And to answer your question, probably old enough to be your mother :)

Thanks to odyjha who just reviewed chapter 11. I sure hope I don't get you into trouble!

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

_Please_ leave a review and tell me what you think!

Reviewers receive a free archery lesson with Gale :)


	20. Chapter 20

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 20**

Friday, Games Day 11

"Oh, she…she sounds like _Mom_," Prim whispers.

We look at her in surprise. I have certainly never heard anything approaching that tone come out of Mrs. Everdeen's mouth.

"Before Daddy… died. She used to talk to him like that sometimes," Prim continues, sounding very young and very faraway. I look over to Mrs. Everdeen, who seems very old and very far away. Leaving Rory and my mother to comfort Prim through this ordeal. Was she ever the loving, cheerful woman who had used that voice for her husband? Is that what Katniss chose to imitate? A long ago memory of her parents?

Katniss shows the pot of broth to Peeta, but he turns away from it with a grimace. If she can't get him to eat, he isn't going to last very long. Of course, I thought he would have succumbed before now. Katniss uses her new, sweet, melodic voice to coax him to try it. She pleads. She begs. She threatens him. I smile, the threatening is _so_ Katniss. And then, clearly desperate, she _kisses_ him. After the kiss, he finally takes a spoonful.

This goes on interminably, as she coaxes, pleads and _kisses _him into cooperating. He is being difficult on purpose! He is. I think he's figured out all he has to do is resist and she will kiss him into compliance. It's disgusting to watch. Who is this girl who cuddles up with Peeta and uses her kisses to persuade? This girl who uses a special coaxing tone of voice? Certainly not the Katniss I know. But, I'd like to.

Peeta has been playing the star-crossed lovers angle since the interviews. Katniss is playing it, too, I decide. _All_ of this is an angle. All of this is a strategy. The girl who held his hand at the opening ceremonies. The girl who blushed at his declaration of love. The girl who is cooing and kissing him into eating. All this cooing, kissing and eating. It is too much for Peeta's stomach and too much for mine.

Finally, the pot is empty and the Kissing Games are finally over. She tucks him into the sleeping bag. _Alone_, thankfully.

She moves to the cave entrance and eats her dinner while keeping watch. The anthem reports no deaths for day eleven.

Cato and Clove go hunting after the anthem. Will the Gamemakers lead them right to Katniss now that she is chained to the ground and Peeta instead of safely out of the reach up in a tree? Clearly these damn Gamemakers have it out for "the Girl on Fire."

The Careers are cold, miserable and griping at each other. Clove wants to go back to their camp and the fire. Cato insists they are better off if they keep moving.

"You just want to find them while they're all cozy in their sleeping bag," Clove accuses, seemingly jealous. Hmm…she's starting to feel competitive with Katniss? She at least resents the male attention she draws. Even when it threatens death? Women are hard to fathom. Career women? Impossible.

They're _not _going to be all cozy in that sleeping bag _together_. Duh. One of them has to keep watch. Katniss isn't stupid.

Cato laughs maliciously. "Yeah, then one thrust to end them both," he thrusts his sword out in front of him as if imagining his targets. _As if_ Katniss would leave herself so exposed.

Ginger has made herself a bed of pine needles and leaves under a bush not far from the lake. She managed to steal a sleeping bag from the Careers' camp the last time she went foraging. How does she manage to relax enough to sleep on the ground without an ally to keep watch? The exhaustion must take over at some point.

Thresh looks even colder than the others in his field of grain. No sleeping bag. No fire. No ally. Alone from the beginning. The grasses blow in the stiff breeze, not providing much shelter from the cold. Certainly not as much as the trees and cave provide for the others.

Katniss sits, shivering, her arms tightly wrapped about her now. She's rocking back and forth in an attempt to keep warm. Her breath comes out in puffs of white vapor. The nights haven't been this cold before, have they? Have the Gamemakers deliberately dropped the temperature lower than usual tonight? Blistering heat during the day shouldn't cool off to frigid temperatures overnight. They definitely are manipulating the temperatures. But, to what end? Not very entertaining.

She looks longingly in Peeta's direction. At the sleeping bag? At him? She picks up her bow and crosses over to where Peeta lies. I watch in disbelief as she slides into the sleeping bag next to Peeta, snuggling into his warmth with a contented sigh.

They cut away from them at the end of the broadcast. The announcers are laughing and joking about them getting _cozy_ in the sleeping bag, as Cato predicted.

I am…kind of outraged. Nonplussed. This is the _Hunger Games, _after all! One of them should be on watch! Kill or be killed, you know? I can't believe Katniss could be so reckless. This is why they dropped the temperature. To force her into the sleeping bag. If she needs to share body warmth- because the Gamemakers are _toying _with her- she should at least be on watch, facing the mouth of the cave. Not burying her face into his chest. Face-to-face.

As I lay in bed I am consumed by thoughts and images of them together in that damn sleeping bag. Her breath hot on his face. His on hers. How can she possibly be that comfortable with him? Sure, he's practically unconscious, but they hardly know each other. Is this part of the act? She would not be that comfortable with _me_ and I have been her best friend for five years. It took _months_ before she trusted me enough to even smile at me. After a few weeks, she is comfortable enough to curl up in a sleeping bag with him? It must be a part of the strategy. It has to be.

Still, I feel hurt. Cheated. First, I lose her first kiss. Now I lose…what? A shared intimacy. _Any_ shared intimacy with Katniss should be mine. Hmm…I'm starting to feel competitive with him. The thought is somewhat maddening. I shouldn't have to compete for Katniss. Everyone knows we belong together. When she gets home she will realize it, too.

Saturday morning, Games Day 12

~Highlights~

Cato is sleeping while Clove keeps watch at their camp. Thresh is out gathering what appears to be grain. Ginger is making some kind of soup in a pot she scavenged from the Careers' obliterated supplies. She is amazingly resourceful.

"How do you feel?" Katniss asks Peeta.

"Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud. Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag…and _you_," he says

'_A sleeping bag…and you.' Damn you, Mellark. Just rub it in, why don't you? She loves me! Keep your hands - and your lips - off of her!_

Katniss smiles, reaching out to touch his cheek. He captures her hand and turns his head into her palm, kissing it. I know it is an act, but I can't believe she is allowing this. I just can't. This Girl on Fire we watch is the _un_-Katniss.

The guys on my crew are needling me about it as the highlights end and I prepare to leave.

"Looks like you're gonna have a _vacancy_ in your harem, Hawk," Thom jokes.

"Oh, I think it's getting a little crowded in there, anyway," Jax adds, helpfully.

I don't need this crap today. Thankfully, I have an archery lesson with Madge and I leave without acknowledging them.

~Archery Lessons~

I walk to the school to meet Madge, but when I get there I am surprised to find Daphne and Madge in what might be considered an argument. If one can have a one-sided argument. Daphne is yelling and poking Madge in the shoulder. Madge merely brushes away Daphne's hand and answers her back in her normal, soft voice. Again and again.

"You stay away from Gale! I'm sure you can find plenty of merchant boys willing to date the Mayor's daughter. No need to go slumming it. With _my_ boyfriend. Go find your own," I hear Daphne as I get closer.

"He doesn't _belong_ to you and I can have any friends I want. Gale certainly doesn't need your permission to spend time with me," Madge responds calmly.

I walk up and slide my arms around Madge's waist from behind, pulling her close. "Hey, Madge," I brush her ear with my lips.

"Hey, Gale" she says sweetly, looking briefly over her shoulder. Did she bat her eyes at me? Since we spent several hours in a similar position yesterday I was hoping she wouldn't startle when I touched her and she didn't. She follows my lead, effortlessly. The thought comes to mind…hmm. Two can play the acting game.

"Is there a problem here?" I ask, eyeing Daphne.

"No. Apparently not. But, there might be when Daddy Mayor finds out what his little princess has been up to."

I'm a little concerned about what mischief Daphne intends, but Madge speaks up. "Daddy _adores_ Gale and knows all about us, Daphne. We're actually headed to my house right now. You absolutely must come along to meet my mother."

At this, Daphne turns and storms off in a huff.

I chuckle as Madge turns around. "What?" she asks.

"What would you have done if she had accepted?" I ask as we walk across the square.

"Oh, she's a bit of a bully. She wouldn't ever risk actually being proven wrong. If she had tagged along, Annis would have included her in our snack and I would have made sure she knew my mother and the servants see nothing unusual about you coming over. Then, I'd politely ask her to leave so that we could work."

I smile at how unruffled she seems over the scene with Daphne. What would it take to ruffle her feathers?

We spend several hours working on Madge's shooting. I'm amazed at her natural ability. It won't be long before I am the third best archer in the district. Behind two girls, no less. My, aren't we getting competitive with everybody today?

Madge asks me what I think about all of the kissing in the arena. She gives me a pitying expression when I tell her it is all an act.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" she asks.

"Yes." An emphatic yes.

"You think Katniss is capable of acting as if she is in love with someone when she, in fact, is not?"

"It's only a few kisses. They mean _nothing_," I insist.

"They looked real to me. I think she cares about him a lot, Gale," she looks up at me clearly concerned. For me.

"You don't think a kiss can look real unless two people are in _love?_ That someone can't make it look more intimate than it is? That it can't be an angle? Please!" I scoff.

She thinks about it for a moment. "No. Definitely not. Not unless someone is a professional actor or something. Someone like Finnick Odair could pull it off. Definitely not Katniss."

"I think you're wrong. And, I can prove it to you." I put my hands on her waist and position her firmly against me. She looks up in surprise, her cheeks flush a delicate pink.

"Prove what to me?" she asks breathlessly. Her hands rest against my chest.

"That you don't have to be in love to share a believable kiss, of course." _Yeah, right Gale. All you want to do is 'prove.'_

She swallows, her tongue moistens her lips and she bites her lower lip a moment in indecision. "Are you… going to kiss me to prove it?" she asks softly.

"Oh, yes," I say as I slowly lower my lips to hers, her breath hot on my face; mine on hers. I give her plenty of time to pull away if she wants to.

She closes her eyes as our lips meet. I keep mine open. I always keep mine open. I like to see the girl. Taste the girl. Touch the girl. Actually, I'd like to hear the girl, too. But that part isn't actually up to me, is it? Anyway, can't _see_ her response with my eyes closed.

Could I?

The first taste is just the lightest, feathery caress of my lips over hers. The sweet scent of strawberries fills my lungs. Her hands slide up my chest and around my neck as I deepen the kiss. Her soft, full lips mold to mine. She is sweet and warm in my arms. I pull her body closer and she makes a delicious noise in the back of her throat, her fingers tangle in my hair. She is so responsive. I pull back slightly, taking one last taste of her sweet lips. I regret ending the demonstration.

We stand there for a minute in each other's arms before she steps back and I release her. "Well, now do you think that would be believable if we were on camera?" I ask, controlling my breathing with an effort.

"It's probably a good thing there aren't any cameras down here," she says, a little dazed.

"Believable?"

"Unbelievable!" She laughs, "Our kiss, I mean."

I look at her, surprised.

"Oh, no, not that…I mean…our kiss was believable…passionate and everything, you know…I just meant, this _moment_ has been unbelievable. Nice I mean." She finally pulls her composure back together and stops stammering. "Yes, that was a very nice…first kiss."

I have never seen Madge so flustered before and I find myself smiling at her.

"Oh, did I answer your question? Yes. It was amazingly believable. If you have taught her to kiss half as well as you do, then I sure hope Peeta knows this is all an act."

"Why?"

"Because he _really_ _is_ in love with her. If she is leading him on, it is going to break his heart," she says fervently.

First she's concerned for me, now for Peeta. I really, really am starting to feel quite competitive with that guy. I find it impossible to drum up any concern for Mellark's possible broken heart since he is kissing _my_ girl. Probably won't make it home alive, anyway. So, he'll never know she is pretending.

"So, have you?" she asks breathlessly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Have I what?" Breathlessness always gets my complete attention.

"Taught her to kiss half as well as you do?"

I try changing the subject back to our training, turning towards the gym equipment. Back to business. "We should work on your upper body strength if you are serious about getting as good as Katniss."

"Upper body strength? What does that have to do with kissing?" she asks, following me.

"No. I'm talking about _archery_. You need upper body strength for archery. I've…never kissed Katniss."

She looks surprised at my answer. Pleased, too. "Never? Well, that's probably a good thing."

I arch an eyebrow in inquiry.

"If she pretend-kisses as well as you do, he would definitely never recover from it. If she is the _only_ one pretending."

"Let's get back to work. You might be as good an archer as Katniss someday if you keep up the practice. Not that you really have a need to like we do."

"You think I have the potential to be as good as Katniss?" she whispers conspiratorially. "You said she was better than you."

"Well, I don't know about you ever being _better_ than her, but you are extremely talented. Much more so than I am. And, I've had a lot more practice and I'm much stronger. To be able to hit your target from maximum distance, you need to build up your strength."

We go over to the gym portion of the basement and I have her lift weights. Then, we move to a chin-up bar. She hangs from it, facing me. She cannot pull herself up. She laughs as she tries, but she is quite hopeless. Hopelessly helpless, I think.

I put my hands gently around her waist, lift her up, and command her to hold the position for ten seconds and then lower herself slowly. We do this many times until she can perform no longer. She is completely exhausted.

I have plenty of unspent energy.

"I think we have earned our dinner," she smiles after she drops to the floor.

~Games~

Katniss is by the stream, mixing up some mashed berries and water. She returns to the cave to find Peeta struggling to rise.

"I woke up and you were gone," he says, concerned. "I was worried about you."

All this worrying. I worry for Katniss. Mellark worries for Katniss. She worries for him. Madge worries for all three of us. Is this a love triangle? A love quadrangle? No. This is an act. She loves only me. I love only her.

Katniss laughs and eases him back down onto the sleeping bag. "You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

"I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night."

"Clove? Which one is that?" she asks and I realize for the first time that she doesn't know the other kids' names. Did she know the name of Marvel, the boy she killed? Probably easier if she didn't.

"The girl from District Two. She's still alive, right?"

"Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Foxface," she says. Foxface? "That's what I nicknamed the girl from Five." Because she doesn't know Ginger's name. "How do you feel?"

_Oh, no. _I sigh_, We have to watch this scene again? Once wasn't bad enough?_

"Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud. Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag…and you."

'_A sleeping bag…and you.' Damn you, Mellark. You and your one-track mind. Don't you ever think about anything other than Katniss? _

We watch him capture and kiss her hand _again_.This is all so _un_-Katniss.

"No more kisses for you until you've eaten," she teases him. UGH! My stomach…too much to stomach, I tease myself.

After he eats he tries to convince her to sleep. "You didn't sleep," he says gently. She didn't sleep? While they were in the sleeping bag together all night. She didn't sleep. Ah, but he did. He was asleep, I remind myself, comforted. He was asleep the entire time. He must have been.

"I'm all right," she says, but he finally convinces her to sleep.

She settles down on top of the sleeping bag to rest. Peeta brushes a few strands of hair off her forehead as she settles down. She must be exhausted, because she falls asleep immediately. Mellark sits there stroking her hair as she sleeps. They seem so _comfortable _like that. So natural. As if…as if Katniss is used to him stroking her hair. As if…she actually _welcomes_ it. Katniss doesn't let anyone but Prim touch her affectionately. Not her mother. Not me. Can this be an act? I wouldn't have believed she could be so convincing. This…touching…intimacy may just be the most disturbing thought of all. She is… _accepting_ his familiarity. Welcoming it.

Cato takes watch while Clove sleeps. They prefer to hunt at night, but they haven't had any luck since they killed Angus and Linux on Day 8. It's been three days since Marvel and Rue died, too. The Gamemakers will make something happen soon.

Ginger spends some time spying on the remaining Careers, refilling her water bottles and wandering the arena. It is very rare for a tribute like her to survive so long into the Games. She can't have many sponsors. In fact, I haven't seen her receive a single gift. She was the one hurt most by Katniss destroying the supplies- well, except for Linux, of course. If the Gamemakers decide to liven things up with a gruesome death at their hands they will most likely choose her. She seems the least likely to provide any "fun" on her own.

Judging by the angle of the sun it is late afternoon when Katniss wakes on her own. She's immediately furious that Peeta didn't wake her hours ago.

"For what? Nothing's going on here," he says. "Besides I _like_ watching you sleep. You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot," he teases. She scowls at this. He grins in response.

And, just why are the Gamemakers spending so very much time showing us the two of them alone in a cave? Us watching him watching her sleep? It has got to be making for some bored audiences in the Capitol.

Katniss makes him drink and tends to his wounds. She is doing a great job with the resources she has, but his leg is much worse. Hopeless. Red streaks from the wound run across tight, shiny skin. Blood poisoning. He'll be dead in a matter of days without treatment. And there is no treatment for something like this in the Hunger Games.

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen discuss his wound and how long the infection has festered. It has now been seven days since his fight with Cato. Seven to ten days from initial injury is the length of survival they have seen, they pronounce. Like I said, hopeless.

"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," Katniss says, trying to be positive. And failing.

"The lack of pus is a _bad_ sign in this case. His body can't even fight the infection anymore," Mrs. Everdeen tells us, clinically. "He's probably going to die within the next day or two."

"Maybe they will win before then," Vick suggests, hopefully.

Hey there, little brother…don't get your hopes up. Katniss is all that matters. The only one who matters, I think to myself, because I could never actually say it aloud to him. He cares so much about each one of them.

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss. Even if my mother isn't a healer," Peeta says gently, letting her know she needn't to lie to him.

"You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta," she insists. "They'll cure it back at the Capitol when we win."

"Yes, that's a good plan," he says calmly. He doesn't believe he will outlast the others. He knows he doesn't have long left. Even if Katniss refuses to admit it. He accepts death well, I tell myself. As long as it's not hers, anyway. Always thinking Katniss. One track mind.

Katniss leaves the cave to make them some soup. It is hot enough to cook the soup with rocks. The heat must be blistering. The Gamemakers are definitely manipulating the temperatures in the arena. She returns to Peeta's side with soup.

He's obviously feverish. She places a wet cloth on his forehead. "Do you want anything?" she asks, attentively.

"No, thank you. Wait, yes. Tell me a story."

A story? A _story? _This is the Hunger Games and she is not your mother. Next, they'll be playing house. Oh, wait…Please, at least spare us the Kissing Game. Ok, story time it is!

"A story? What about?" Katniss asks, clearly at a loss.

"Something _happy_. Tell me about the happiest day you can remember," he asks with a smile.

She sputters in disbelief. Happy memories? There can't be many of those. Most of her happy memories probably involve me. I don't suppose Lover Boy wants to hear about her happy times with me hunting in the forest. No, I suppose not.

Prim moves closer to the TV with an eager look on her face. She is obviously looking forward to story time.

"Did I ever tell you about how I got Prim's goat?" she asks, hopefully. Does she tell him so many stories she can't remember which ones he's heard? How can that be? She doesn't talk much to _anyone_. She isn't really going to tell him about our deer, is she? On nationwide television?

Of course not. Katniss is no fool. She gives an edited-for-television version of the story. Buying the injured goat for Prim and her mom and Prim nursing it back to health. Editing out any mention of hunting, the deer and most of my involvement. Although I do get credited with having carried the goat home. Happily ever after. The end. Except it's not.

"They sound like you," Peeta says.

"Oh, no, Peeta. They work magic. That thing couldn't have died if it tried," smooth Katniss. Really smooth thing to say to the dying boy by your side.

"Don't worry. I'm not trying," he jokes. "Finish the story."

"Well, that's it. Only I remember that night, Prim insisted on sleeping with Lady on a blanket next to the fire. And just before they drifted off, the goat licked her cheek, like it was giving her a goodnight kiss or something. It was already mad about her."

Prim is crying softly, watching the screen intently.

"Was it still wearing the pink ribbon?" he asks.

Prim nods her head in response.

"I think so, why?" Katniss answers.

"I'm just trying to get a picture," he says, thoughtfully. "I can see why that day made you happy."

"Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," Katniss says, artlessly.

"Yes, of course I was referring to that, not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping," Peeta says drily.

Prim covers her mouth with her hands. Rory quickly puts his arm around her.

"The goat _has_ paid for itself. Several times over," Katniss insists.

"Well, it wouldn't dare do anything else after you saved its life. I intend to do the same thing."

"Really, what did you cost me again?" she asks, rather seductively, I think.

"A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back," he says.

She looks concerned suddenly at his rambling, placing her hand against his forehead. "You're not making sense. You're a little cooler, though."

Trumpets blare in the arena. We all sit up attentively. The crowds must be getting restless. What fun do the Gamemakers have in store for them now?

Katniss hurries to the mouth of the cave. The other tributes watch the sky apprehensively.

Claudius Templesmith's voice booms from the speakers and throughout the arena. "Greetings to the final six contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. You are all most cordially invited to a feast."

Katniss waves him off. Smart girl. You have plenty of food. Others are getting hungry, but not my hunting partner. No reason to put yourself into danger. You have this thing won. You realize that, yet? As soon as you see one, you can shoot their eye out. From a distance. With ease. I've practically been planning the welcome home party for days now. No one can get close enough to hurt you with a sword or knife as long as you have your bow.

Claudius responds to Katniss' dismissal, "Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately."

Katniss' eyes go wide and her mouth parts in surprise. _No! No! No, Katniss! _I want to scream at her. Shake some sense into her.

"Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance," Claudius concludes.

Dammit! They designed this trap especially for Katniss. First they saddle her with Peeta, and then they set a trap using his survival as bait. Bait for her. And, it will work too, blast it!

She sits at the mouth of the cave thinking over the invitation.

Peeta struggles to his feet and staggers to her, grabbing her shoulder from behind, "No! You're not risking your life for me," he says determinedly.

I let out a sigh. No, she's going to go. No doubt in my mind. And, now you're both going to die. No doubt in my mind. Does Peeta have any doubts in his mind?

"Who said I was?" Katniss asks, much too casually.

"So, you're not going?" Peeta asks, suspiciously.

"Of course, I'm not going. Give me some credit. Do you think I'm running straight into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid," she says, helping him back over to the sleeping bag. "I'll let them fight it out, we'll see who's in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there."

_Oh, I wish you were smart enough to listen to yourself, Catnip. _

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to imitate her, "_I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." _He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin."

"All right, I am going, and you can't stop me!" she declares, doing a complete turnabout.

"I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And, then I'll be dead for sure," he shoots back.

"You won't get a hundred yards from here on that leg," she returns.

"Then, I'll drag myself. You go and I'm going, too," he says stubbornly. I feel a grudging respect for what he is trying to do. But, he has no idea how headstrong Katniss can be.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch you die?" she pleads.

He reaches out to take her hand, "I won't die. I promise. If you promise not to go."

"Then you have to do what I say. Drink your water, wake me when I tell you, and eat every bite of the soup, no matter how disgusting it is!" she snaps. That was way too easy. She must be planning to sneak out when he is sleeping or something.

"Agreed. Is it ready?" he asks, eager to put their argument aside.

They eat the soup while Peeta rambles on about how delicious it is. I know she isn't that great a cook. He enthusiastically keeps his part of their bargain.

She is so absorbed in her inner thoughts as she washes out the pot that she nearly misses the parachute that lands in the water before her. She tears off the silver fabric to reveal a vial. Did Haymitch send her the medicine? Can they really have enough sponsors for something so very expensive?

She uncorks the vial and sniffs. She looks so defeated. She puts a drop on her tongue. She's disappointed. Angry. It clearly isn't what she thought. But, what is it?

Suddenly, she looks pleased. She mashes up some berries and leaves and adds the contents of the vial. She heads back to the cave. "I've brought you a treat. I found a new batch of berries a little farther downstream," she says cheerfully, settling down in front of him with the spoon readied.

He opens his mouth without hesitation, totally trusting. Naïve kid.

Katniss spoons some into his mouth, immediately refilling the spoon.

"They're very sweet," he grimaces.

"Yes, they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you ever had them before?" she asks, popping the next spoonful into his mouth. Whatever was in that vial, she obviously doesn't want him to know.

"No," he looks confused. "But, they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"

"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild," she says as he swallows another spoonful.

"They're sweet as syrup," he says as she spoons the final dose into his mouth. "Syrup." His eyes go wide as he realizes what she's done. She covers his mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow the last bit. He tries to vomit, but he is rapidly losing consciousness.

I hop to my feet and begin pacing.

_Sleep_ syrup. Haymitch, you _idiot!_ Don't you want to bring home a Victor? Why gamble? Exchange a sure-fire win with the Girl on Fire for a longshot just to try for two? Katniss in a mini-bloodbath with two Careers and Thresh? Dreaming much? Feasts _always_ result in deaths. And, she has been the Careers' number one target since Day One.

"Who can't lie, Peeta?" she says, looking at him sadly.

Is she sad about tricking him? Drugging him?

I am …disturbed. Despondent, actually.

What is this bond she has with him? Some feeling of… responsibility? She is going to risk her life. One extra, dangerous time. Willingly, risk _everything_. The chance to come home to Prim. To me. She is going to risk _everything_ to try to save him. I knew after she made her first kill that she was going to win. For days I've been certain. But- she is going to throw it all away. And all for him.

If she went to the feast with the intention of taking out some of the competition from a safe distance- concealed in the trees- she could take out Cato and Clove and probably _still _get Peeta's medicine. But, no! Her focus is on getting the medicine. Not on wiping out the competition.

Saving him is her priority. She won't risk another tribute taking his medicine. No, she will barrel in right away. Full-speed ahead! Exactly as the Gamemakers intend. She's going to run in there impulsively. She's going to die. Game over.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Author's Note.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: Donika, page-394-always1,likeitmatters, nebakanezer, Ginger-Snapp, neopsycho, Renae X, cdtspecialk, Marganville Rules, AliceW, AODiva1978, The Magic of the Night, Madhatterpenguin, Wonderous- Serendipity, noname, mmmmilovepeeta, darrena, Oisin55, 22Moons, Forest Bug, HabsGirl31, Maddy Hawthorne, PerfectTwo, odyjha, Pinklove21 and capery.

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

You know what to do!


	21. Chapter 21

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 21**

Saturday night, Games Day 12

Prim looks at me worriedly. "She's going to go, isn't she?"

"Yes," I answer, without elaborating. There is no point in sharing my conviction about the outcome of tomorrow's feast. We will all know soon enough.

For a feast, the broadcast will begin at noon and last all day. Similar to the first day of the Games. They will probably have the families go to the square for what might be the Grand Finale. Thirteen days is on the short side for a Games. The Careers will need both luck and skill to take out everyone at the feast.

And, they'll still need to find Peeta. Wouldn't it be ironic if they all killed each other and Peeta ended up winning because Katniss knocked him out?

_Oh, Katniss, why won't you stop and think like a hunter instead of a nurse? Enough with the star-crossed lovers routine!_

My attention is drawn back to the screen as Cato grabs Clove around the waist and pulls her into his lap. Maybe bloodlust has become…

"Cato! Stop that. Remember where we are," she hisses, pushing against him.

Cato cups her cheek with one hand and leans his forehead against hers. "Just for a minute," he says very softly.

"We have to keep our heads in the Game, Cato," she reminds him, her voice softening ever so slightly.

"Are they…a _couple?_" I ask the room in surprise. How could I have missed this?

"I've been wondering that, myself," my mother answers. "Ever since the way he reacted when Katniss dropped the nest."

I try to remember anything of note after the tracker jacker attack. They were lying next to each other while they were unconscious. But, not in one another's arms.

"He pushed her ahead of him as they ran towards the lake and made sure they were together before he passed out," my mother elaborates.

"And, they look at each other a lot," Prim adds.

"And they volunteered to fight in the _same_ Games? What is wrong with Careers?" I say, stunned.

"No, Cato volunteered; and then Clove was _reaped_," Vick supplies. "They do the boys first in District Two."

"She was _reaped?_ I can't remember the last time Two wasn't both volunteers," I say, watching the two fiercest tributes in the Games _cuddling._ For a moment I almost see two normal teenagers. I quickly remind myself of the trained killing machines they have been since the Games began.

"I think they must have some kind of system in Two. In One and Four the volunteers all race to the stage, but in Two the volunteer seems to be pre-selected. Maybe they only use the pre-arranged volunteer if the reaped tribute isn't a Career," Vick speculates.

Which makes perfect sense, since there is no doubt Clove is a Career. And one of the fiercest in memory.

"Cato is eighteen. This was his last year of eligibility. Clove is seventeen. She probably planned to volunteer next year, for the Quarter Quell," Vick conjectures. How does he even know about the Quarter Quell? I've never even been alive for one.

Back on screen, the two are done whispering to each other and Clove slides off of his lap. "What do you suppose is in our backpack? We don't desperately _need_ anything," Clove wonders. Back to business as usual.

"What we _need_ will be at the feast. But, it won't be in any backpack. What we need is our last four victims all gathered conveniently together so we can end this," Cato says coldly. "Get some sleep. We head back to the Cornucopia before dawn." His head seems to be clearly back in the game after a moment of…weakness? Sentimentality? Very strange for any Career. But, especially the Career pack leader.

Apparently I have been so preoccupied with all things Katniss that I haven't paid sufficient attention to her fiercest competition. Katniss inspires one-track minds two at a time, it seems. I knew the two from Two trusted each other. That they worked well as a team. But, I hadn't identified them as a couple. How does them being a couple change the situation? Does it change the situation? Should it? Can we use it? A _normal_ couple might be extra cautious and concerned about each other and therefore take fewer risks. Doubtful that is the case with _these_ two. It bothers me that I missed this vital piece of information. A lot. What else have I missed?

We watch Katniss as she camouflages the entrance to the cave with more rocks, spending most of the evening building the perfect screen to protect Peeta while she is gone. She's expending a great deal of energy to keep him safe. She eats and cleans her weapons while she waits for the anthem.

There were no deaths on Day 12. Six tributes remain.

We watch Ginger as she slinks through the forest, making her way towards the Cornucopia. She will be the first to arrive. Cato and Clove were hunting a good distance away today and are making camp in the woods. Thresh is sticking to his usual routine in the grasslands.

Katniss slides into the sleeping bag with Peeta again. She faces the mouth of the cave and has her bow at hand. At least there is no doubt he will be completely unconscious tonight - thanks to Haymitch and his sleep syrup.

I don't even try to sleep.

Sunday, Games Day 13

I sit in the meadow watching the dawn break, wondering if this will be Katniss' last day on earth. Two hours until dawn in the arena. Two hours until the feast. Two hours until she risks her life in a free-for-all against Cato, Clove and Thresh. For him. All for him.

More likely than not, she will be dead in two hours.

And then it will be four more hours until the broadcast. They won't broadcast it until noon here. Ten o'clock in the Capitol. Wouldn't want to make them get up early or anything. Six hours until we know if she lives or dies.

I sit, staring out into our woods watching the sun clear the trees. Are these her last hours? Is she even now hiking towards the Cornucopia? Are Cato and Clove lying in wait for her?

Surely, they must be. She has been their number one target since day one. They'll want to get Thresh as well, but she will be their priority. He got his ten based largely on his size and attitude. They've probably figured out that a small girl from District Twelve could have gotten such a score only for a more deadly attribute. A tremendous, _unknown_ threat. An impressive skill with a weapon. A skill more impressive than even Clove's knife-throwing skills. And, they know she has the bow. The most deadly weapon in the arena. If they have to pick only one to kill, they'll pick her. Inescapably. Beyond any doubt. She _is_ the bull's-eye.

I bury my face in my hands. I have missed her so much these past three weeks. I can't imagine living the rest of my life without her. I just can't imagine a world without her. _My_ world without her. _Please don't die, Catnip. Please don't die. Just don't. _

I should have gone to see Dougray this morning. He needs more convincing to come around to my way of thinking about the organization of the rebellion. It would be time better spent than sitting here brooding over things so wholly beyond my control. At least with the rebellion, I can work towards making a change.

It must be dawning in the arena now. I'm going to lose my mind with worry over the possibilities. My mind won't turn off. Or slow down. I want to tear down this stupid fence with my bare hands. Probably her best hope will be if Thresh and Ginger run for the bags at the same time as she does, splitting the Careers' focus. If they have three targets instead of one, her odds will be much improved. If they go after her two-on-one, she's lost. Finished.

An hour later, Rory finds me still sitting here. "Hey, Gale. The Peacekeepers came by and said we have to be in the square by ten."

I nod my head in acknowledgement. Of course. The Capitol wants to get the predictions of the family members before they broadcast the feast. They know the results and will enjoy our torment. Rory sits down beside me.

"Do you still think she'll win?" he asks.

"She _could_. She should. But, she's going to be _stupid_. She's going to run in to get his medicine and put herself at risk. She _should_ be in a tree near the Cornucopia waiting to pick off the others as they go in before going in to retrieve _his_ medicine. But, she won't risk _that,_" I say bitterly.

"Do you…do you think she's going to _die?_" he asks.

I can't – or rather won't - answer that question, so I just get up and change the subject. We head back towards home.

We stop by to collect the Everdeens and walk into town together. As suspected, the reporters are back in full force this morning and we'll need to do _another_ round of interviews before the broadcast begins. As if today isn't going to be hard enough. Mrs. Everdeen is barely holding on. Prim looks as if she didn't sleep at all last night. We should've all taken sleep syrup. Peeta's surely the only one who got a full night's sleep last night.

We are immediately herded to the stage where my old friend Varvara Vamp lies in wait. The pre-interview is quicker this time, presumably because we know what is expected of us and Vista knows our good sides. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim sit to Varvara's left and I sit to her right.

Varvara tells me what great feedback they got on our first segment and how _thrilled_ she is to have a chance to _renew_ our acquaintance.

"Hunger Games correspondent Varvara Vamp here with Mrs. Lily Everdeen, Primrose Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne, mother, sister and cousin of District Twelve tribute Katniss Everdeen," she says in that annoying accent Katniss and I so enjoy making fun of. She turns towards the Everdeens. "It's so _exciting_ to be back in District Twelve again. How have you been enjoying the Games this year, Primrose?"

"They've been very exciting," Prim deadpans.

"And, I imagine you must miss your sister?" is she trying to make Prim cry? Retaliating for her perfect deadpan? Retaliating against a little girl on national TV? I hate them all.

"Of course. Nothing is the same without Katniss. I miss her terribly," Prim says in a tremulous voice.

"And, what do you think about Katniss and Peeta?"

"What about them?" she asks.

"Do you think they make a cute couple?" Varvara prompts. I hope she doesn't ask me that question. I'm not so sure I could pull off a civil answer.

Prim smiles sweetly, "Yes, they do. Peeta seems really nice. And, he makes her smile and laugh. That's not an easy thing to do, even here in District Twelve." Careful, little one.

"Are you surprised she's going to risk her life to save him?"

"Not at all. That is the kind of person she is. She'll always put the ones she cares about above herself. She must care about him a lot to risk so much for him." Prim answers seriously.

"Mrs. Everdeen, are you proud of how far your daughter has made it in this year's Games?"

"Yes. She's done an amazing job taking care of herself and of Peeta, and with very few resources. I'm very proud to call her my daughter."

"Do you think they can win?"

"She has overcome many difficulties in the past." Oh, you don't know half of the difficulties she has overcome in the past when you checked out. "She promised Prim she would win. And she has never broken a promise to her little sister." Wow, where did Mrs. E. pull that from?

Varvara smiles before turning her hungry gaze towards me. It _is_ the Hunger Games, after all.

"So, _Gale_, how have you been enjoying the Games?" she pats my knee.

"I have been absolutely _riveted _to the TV," I admit without sarcasm.

"I can only imagine. District Twelve hasn't had two tributes make it to the final six since the Second Quarter Quell."

This comes as news to me. I didn't know we had _ever_ had two make it this far. No, wait. The Quell was _Haymitch's_ games. With Madge's Aunt Maysilee. "Yes, the Victor of the Quell was our Haymitch Abernathy. He and Maysilee Donner made it to the final five, I believe." My eyes seek out Madge, but she is across the square with her father and doesn't hear me. Thankfully.

Varvara's clearly surprised at the depth of my knowledge. We both know the Quell happened before I was born.

"Well, I myself had no idea that Twelve was capable of producing such fine specimens." _Specimens?_ She eyes me suggestively as she continues, "Normally you lose both tributes in the bloodbath. What do you think makes this year different?"

Besides the fact that Katniss is trained with a long-range weapon? That probably wouldn't be helpful to mention.

"Katniss and Peeta are both healthy and smart. Both determined." Well-fed. But, mentioning something like that could be considered seditious. Wouldn't want to be accused of that. And it wouldn't help them get sponsors, anyway.

"Katniss certainly is _smart_. Were you surprised with how easily she managed to track him in the arena? The odds in the Capitol were against her finding him in time," she informs me. The odds are ever against her favor. I wonder what else they are taking odds on in the Capitol.

Tread carefully, Gale. "No. As I said, she is smart. She knew he would be near water. And, he wasn't very far from where she had last seen him."

"And, tell me, what did you think of their _reunion?_" Do I hear a taunt? Imagine a taunt? Does she still suspect the cousins story?

"I was surprised he was alert enough to call to her, honestly. After so many days." That isn't enough of an answer. "I was _relieved_," when I figured out the _one perfect night_ was not what Peeta had led everyone to believe.

"As were we all! Watching the poor boy languishing for days was simply heart-wrenching," she sighs dramatically. If only you had a heart. I really don't understand how these people can feel bad for their victims and root for their deaths simultaneously. How do they rationalize it to themselves? Oh, I don't know. How do you carry on two conversation simultaneously, Gale? One with the interviewer and a second one in your head?

"Yes, it was hard to watch. Especially for his family." That was probably a bit over the line. But, honestly, if she felt that bad, how does she imagine the families feel? My anger threatens to spill over. I can't afford to lose it on camera. Can't afford it anytime. Calm down.

"Speaking of _family_. Did you consider volunteering in Peeta's place at the reaping? To protect your cousin as Peeta has?" I would have done a _much_ better job protecting her if it had been me. "You look as if you are about to volunteer here in this clip," she replays Peeta's reaping. I remember the moment of shock so vividly I don't need the replay.

"No, I didn't. Not seriously. After all…" I almost say their can only be one winner, but catch myself in time. There is still a possibility that she survives the feast. "I was prepared to go because I expected my name to be called. After all _family _devotion goes only go so far."

"Speaking of _devotion_. Peeta tried very hard to convince her not to attend this morning's feast. How did you feel about that?"

"I felt… mixed _emotions_. I agreed with Peeta not wanting her to put herself into unnecessary danger. But, it was immediately clear she didn't feel she could risk _not_ going."

"To save him," she purrs seductively.

"Yes." _Oh Katniss! It's been over three hours since sunrise in the arena. This intensive questioning has to mean you've survived, right? If you were dead, what would it matter?_ "She went to save him. I _hope_ she sat in a tree picking off some of the competition first, but knowing Katniss like I do…" I swallow, "Knowing Katniss, I know she couldn't risk someone else taking their backpack. She's counting on it having the medicine to save his life. She's betting her life on it." If she risks her life and survives, that had _better_ be what is in the backpack. If it isn't, she'll be so mad she'll probably destroy the entire arena.

"Peeta said at the interview that she didn't know he was alive before the reaping. They seem to have grown extraordinarily close since then," she leans in provocatively. "They have _both_ risked their lives for one another. It's _so_ romantic, don't you think?" She _definitely_ doesn't believe the cousin story. Why else bait me like this?

I merely nod. I am so angry at Katniss for risking her life for him, I realize. When have I ever been mad at Katniss before? _Never_, that's when.

"And, what do you think are their odds of winning?"

"That is hard to say. The four highest scoring tributes of the Games are all still in." And she is…_has _done something stupid today. "But, the Gamemakers gave her the top training score for a reason." Remind the sponsors that she shouldn't be counted out. "If anyone can overcome the odds, it's Katniss. And if she survived the feast, then District Twelve is going to win."

"True love conquers all?" she quips with a seductive smile. That can't possibly be a scripted Capitol-approved question. Doesn't she realize how subversive that sounds? 'True love conquers all'? As in love conquers the Hunger Games? Love conquers the evils of Panem?

"Oh, yes. Let's hope so," I smile back at her. The first real smile I have given on camera. Varvara beams back. She positively _glows_.

...

"Hey, Gale, can I talk to you?" Vick is waiting for me when I climb down from the stage.

"Sure, something the matter?" he looks as if he's going to be sick and the broadcast hasn't even started yet. I lead him through the crowd, looking in vain for a quiet place to talk. We settle down in a corner of the square, away from the crowd.

"What do you think _happened_ this morning? Do you think Katniss survived?" he asks anxiously.

"The fact that they wanted such a long interview makes me believe that she did," I tell him.

"_Really?_ You didn't even come to bed last night. I thought you thought she was going to die."

"I did. I really did," I admit. "She's the number one target for the Careers. They're still working as a team, when normally at this point it would be every one for themselves. If given the chance, they'll take her out before they worry about the others. Cato and Clove together against Katniss isn't a fair fight. But, she has the _bow_, the best weapon in the Games. And, she knows how to use it. If she waited for them to make the first move, she'd have the advantage. It would still be two against one. But, she could do it. I'm just afraid she went in for the medicine first."

"But, she _has_ to save Peeta, right?"

"She can't save him if she's _dead_," I look up to see Varvara and Vista standing a short distance away with their camera trained on us. Damn. Did I say anything to Vick that could hurt Katniss?

~Mandatory Viewing Games Day 13~

We settle into our usual seats for the viewing. Madge sits to my left. Vick to my right. The rest of my family and then the Everdeens fill up the row. The Mellarks are across the aisle from us. Peeta's life hangs in the balance today, as well as Katniss'. If she dies, _he_ dies. All in. If she lives, the odds may finally be in their favor.

Katniss lies awake, shivering despite the shelter of the cave, the sleeping bag, and their _shared_ body heat. I'm surprised it's not snowing given how cold the Gamemakers are making it in the arena. While it is still dark, she slides out of the sleeping bag and prepares to depart. She leans down to kiss Peeta goodbye. I suppose she's going for romantic here, but it's really kind of creepy watching her give him such a long, lingering kiss while he's completely unconscious. Drugged by her. Well, too bad for him. She'd certainly never kiss him like that if he was awake and he's missed it.

Ginger is huddled _inside_ the Cornucopia. Her breaths come out in clouds of white vapor. She is going to be cold and stiff by the time the sun rises. I wonder if she'll be able to run at all after being crouched down in the bitter cold all night. Risky move, but perhaps the others will not bother to chase her with their backpacks still waiting to be claimed. Actually, a brilliant idea. As long as she doesn't run directly into the Careers during her escape she may live through the feast. No small feat. My respect for Ginger continues to grow.

Katniss, Cato, and Clove all travel towards the Cornucopia before dawn. Cato and Clove are quietly discussing their strategy as they go. As I expected, they plan to lie in wait at the edge of the clearing until the others reveal themselves when they attempt to claim their backpacks from the Cornucopia.

"Don't get carried away giving a show for the audience, Clove. This is going to be a mini-bloodbath. We don't have time for theatrics," Cato reminds her. All business. Career business.

"Oh, there is always time for a little show," she says with supreme confidence. "I'll take out Fire Girl," she smiles wickedly. "You can have District Eleven."

"Right. But, ignore District Five and Lover Boy unless it's an easy kill. We'll take care of them later." They're going to split up? I can't believe they aren't going to watch each others back. It's the biggest advantage they have going up against either Katniss or Thresh and they're just going to _ignore_ it? Yes!

If I were in the arena instead of Peeta, we'd definitely have each others backs. And so we'd definitely win. Definitely.

Ginger waits inside the Cornucopia. The others are gathered around the clearing as dawn begins to break. As soon as the first rays of sunshine glint off of the golden horn, the ground in front splits open and a table rises into view.

The moment the table clicks into position, Ginger darts out, grabs the green backpack with the number five on it, and sprints away from the Cornucopia. It's over before it started. Damn, she's good. Good and dangerous.

Katniss looks angry. Probably that she didn't think to hide in the Cornucopia herself. Of course, that would have meant death if the Careers had cornered anyone in there.

Katniss nocks an arrow before she breaks from the trees, running full speed for the horn. The crowd is silent and tense. Everything rides on what happens in the next few minutes.

"Twelve's mine," Clove says as she pulls a knife from her jacket. "District Five's headed this way."

"I'll take care of _Five_. Won't take long." Cato tells her as they part ways.

Cato disappears into the trees to intercept Ginger while Clove chases after Katniss. The crowd in Twelve is suddenly wild with expressed emotion. Yelling for Katniss to turn around. To run faster. Cursing the Career as she aims for Katniss.

Vick and Madge both grip my hands.

Clove launches her knife smoothly, which Katniss seems to sense coming. She deflects it with her bow as she brings it around, shooting at Clove and stringing a second arrow automatically before the first can hit its target. Clove twists away just in time (and just enough) to avoid being struck in the heart, but still takes an arrow to her left arm.

She stops to pull out the arrow as Katniss reaches the table, grabbing up the little orange backpack. _Katniss, you little fool! Kill Clove before you get the backpack! _

Clove launches the second knife, which slices across Katniss' forehead as she turns to fire her second arrow. The crowd screams in dismay as blood pours down her face. She blindly shoots her second arrow, missing Clove completely. I've never seen her miss so badly.

Vick scoots closer against my side; I put my arm tightly around him.

Clove slams into her, knocking her to the ground. Pinned. Game over. She's going to die. Right now. In front of me. In front of Prim. And Posy.

There is no way out of this. Clove outweighs her by far too much.

The crowd has gone eerily silent as we prepare to watch her die. So many people and not one sound. Katniss is going to die and it will mean Peeta's end as well. District Twelve isn't going to have any Victors this year.

Cato is chasing after Ginger and missing Clove's moment of victory.

Clove begins to toy with her. "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?"

"He's out there now. Hunting Cato," Katniss snarls. _"Peeta!"_ she screams before Clove hits her in the throat to silence her. If only he were.

Cato stops chasing Ginger when he hears Katniss call for Peeta, _immediately_ changing direction. He looks towards the Cornucopia, confirming that Clove has Katniss pinned before beginning his search for Peeta.

"_Liar_," she grins. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it," she taunts. Where is the killer instinct? Taking time to taunt Katniss is reckless at such a time as this. I feel a spark of hope. Could she be reckless enough to give Katniss an opening?

Thresh approaches quietly from the far side of the Cornucopia, out of sight of both Cato and Clove. He eases his way around towards the front where Clove has Katniss pinned to the ground. He seems to be debating whether he can retrieve his backpack without drawing her attention.

"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." I don't recall that exchange. As a matter of fact, Cato told her the exact opposite.

Prim is whimpering. Many in the crowd are crying quietly. Katniss is struggling to unseat the larger girl, but it is clearly hopeless.

"Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you just like we did your pathetic little ally…what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue?" Thresh's head snaps to attention at the mention of his district partner's name. "Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound? Now, where to start?" She turns Katniss' face from side to side, acting as if she's in a quandary about where to start.

"Gale, take Posy," my mother whispers as Posy scrambles across Vick's lap towards me. I release Madge's hand to cradle Posy. Mother knows I'm the only one strong enough to prevent her from turning towards the screens once the screaming starts. If any Peacekeeper dares to say anything I'm definitely going to explode. There is no way a four-year-old should ever be made to watch something like this. The Capitol is sick.

"I think…" Clove says throatily, "I think we'll start with your _mouth_." She traces Katniss lips with the tip of her blade. "Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" Katniss spits a mouthful of blood at her face, drawing a few approving grunts from the crowd. I close my eyes a moment, steeling myself to watch my best friend be mutilated and murdered. "All right then. Let's get started."

I notice out of the corner of my eye Madge slips off her bracelet, handing it to Posy to distract her.

As Clove cuts into Katniss' lip she is unaware of Thresh towering over her from behind. What is he going to do? Kill her as soon as she finishes Katniss? That would be the wisest move.

I feel as if my head is going to explode in rage. I could take out a few Peacekeepers before they gun me down. I need to make sure I hand Posy over to Madge and then clear away from my family so they don't get caught by a stray bullet. Right about…

Now. Thresh suddenly grabs Clove from behind, lifting her off of Katniss. What? Why? _Run Katniss! Run! _

Thresh throws Clove violently to the ground, shouting "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

Why is Katniss just lying there? _Escape while he is distracted! Move!_

Clove is trying to scramble away from him, "No! No, it wasn't me!" Terror-stricken. Good.

"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" He follows her, his rage growing with each step, "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?" He points to Katniss, holding a large rock in his hand.

"No! No, I -" Clove's eyes widen in fear at sight of the rock, "Cato!" she screams. _"Cato!"_

Cato's head comes up immediately at her panicked cry. "Clove!" He abandons his search and races towards her voice. Towards the Cornucopia. Wow. He's fast. But still a distance away.

Soon the Gamemakers will have the four highest scoring tributes all gathered in one place. Blood _will_ spill. It will be a bloodbath. Just as they hoped. Money must be changing hands at light speed in the Capitol.

Thresh crushes Clove's skull with his rock. I feel Vick trembling against me. Thresh turns on Katniss, who still lies helplessly on the ground. Why oh why didn't she run?

"What'd she mean? About Rue being your ally?" he asks her.

"I – I – we teamed up. Blew up the supplies. I tried to save her, I did. But, he got there first. District One." Will this be the last time I hear her voice? It is better she die by his rock swiftly than by Clove's knife slowly.

"And _you_ killed him?" he demands.

"Yes. I killed him. And buried her in flowers," she says. "And I sang her to sleep."

"To sleep?" he says, confused.

"To death. I sang until she died. Your district…they sent me bread." Clove lets out a moan a few feet away. Katniss looks as if she is going to cry, "Do it fast, okay, Thresh?"

Prims cries out in terror, _"No!"_

I tighten my grip on Posy.

Thresh lowers the rock he was holding above his head. "Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl. You and me, we're even then. No more owed. You understand?" he says. _What? _I gasp. My mouth hangs open.

She nods her head in understanding. She _understands._ About owing. Everyone from the Seam does. Apparently, it's the same in district Eleven. Yes! But, I still can't believe he is going to let her go. This is the Hunger Games. This just doesn't happen in the Hunger Games. And neither does a district send a gift to another district's tribute. I suddenly love District Eleven. If we could team up in rebellion…

Cato breaks through the trees, no doubt taking in Clove's still form along with both Thresh and Katniss. He doesn't throw his spear. I am stunned…again. Nobody has the killer instinct this year. Taking time to what? Grieve, obviously. One set of lovers has been divided in half. "Clove!" he screams.

"You better run now, Fire Girl," Thresh suggests. _Yes! Good idea! Run Katniss!_

She turns over, pushes herself to her feet and _flees_. Flees as if Gamemakers' mutts are upon her. She's going to get away! She's going to live! The crowd begins to cheer.

Cato drops to his knees beside Clove, completely ignoring his fleeing competition. "Clove! Clove, answer me!" he begs as he gathers her in his arms. "Please don't leave me. I love you, Clove. Together. We're supposed to win this _together_. They changed the rules for us. For _us_." He buries his face into her hair, holding her tightly. Whispering to her.

Did they? Did they change the rules for Cato and Clove? Not for Peeta and Katniss? Oh my, I haven't been analyzing nearly hard enough.

Thresh disappears back into his domain with the backpacks from Two and Eleven. Katniss reaches the forest. This leaves Cato and Clove alone at the Cornucopia.

Katniss runs on, blinded by blood, stumbling. She uses the socks she was wearing as gloves to attempt to stem the flow from her forehead. But, the socks are soon soaked through.

Thresh runs through the field of grain, clearly expecting pursuit. Did he take the pack to ensure Cato followed him or did he merely take it to ensure Cato didn't get it? Either way, it is good for Katniss. All good.

Ginger continues to flee, even after Cato gave up the chase. She finally collapses, gasping for breath and giggling. Hysterically. "I'm alive! I got away. I got away," she whispers to herself as she crawls beneath a bush to hide. Yes, clever girl. You sure did.

Cato continues to sit holding Clove, making no attempt whatsoever to pursue the others. He is…heartbroken. A Career can have a heart. Who knew? The announcers tell us that she is still alive. Cato is waiting for her to die before leaving. Doesn't want her to die alone. I wonder what would have happened if it came down to the two of them. Would the Capitol have allowed two Victors? Or, would they have made them fight to the death? To the death. This is the Capitol of Panem, after all. They clearly _toyed_ with Cato and Clove before the Games. False hope is their specialty. They serve it up sparingly. Just enough. Just enough… for one.

So then. The rule change may not have been directed at Katniss. Or, not _only_ Katniss. Note to self…Analytical self: it isn't always _about _you. It can't be a total coincidence that there were two "couples" in the final six when they made the rule change. Were they angling for a dramatic showdown between lovers? Will they revoke the rule change if Katniss and Peeta are the final two? Stealing a promised victory away like that could have unpredictable repercussions. Especially if the romance angle is so popular with the Capitol viewers. I wonder how it is playing in the districts.

Katniss somehow makes it back to the cave, crawling through the concealed opening. She is covered in blood, she has been bleeding for what must be hours now. It's impossible to tell how long it's really been.

She fumbles with the little backpack, excitedly cutting it open to reveal a slim box containing Peeta's medicine. Her hands are shaking so violently I don't know how she manages not to drop it. She picks up the hypodermic needle, stabs him in the arm and pushes down on the plunger.

The crowd seems to release its breath in one rush. Finally! Finally, she delivers the medicine she fought so very hard (and foolhardily) to obtain. I look towards the Mellarks for the first time in hours and see Mr. Mellark is crying openly.

"She's _alive!_ Alive!" I whisper to Vick, who smiles in return, exhaustedly.

Looking back towards the screen, I see Katniss slump to the ground next to Peeta. She delivered his medicine, but she didn't manage to bandage her heavily bleeding head wound before blacking out.

The sound of a cannon blast stuns the audience into shocked silence.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Author's Note:**

**Please don't forget to review :) **

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: yellowsunshine eb (yes, I'm still old enough to be your mother :), anonymity, toolazytologin, albien, Renae X, mmmmilovepeeta, cdtspecialk, PerfectTwo, Forest Bug, FlamingArrows, HabsGirl31, page-394-always1, Wonderous- Serendipity, AODiva1978, darrena, Ginger-Snapp, Maddy Hawthorne, The-Mockingjay-Games, j, xSparklyStarsx, The Magic of the Night, Pinklove21, odjjha, neopsycho9, Lorelei Eve, x-LiveFantasy-x and Ms Cassity

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!


	22. Chapter 22

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

Get comfy. This is the second longest chapter, so far.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 22**

Sunday, Games Day 13

It's for Clove. It has to be. Katniss hasn't lost enough blood to bleed to death. Not from a gash to the forehead. Or, I suppose it could even be Peeta's cannon. He should've been dead by now. I've been expecting his for a week. But, it _isn't_ for Katniss.

They cut to a shot of a hovercraft flying over the arena and then back to the studio announcers.

"Well, what an exciting morning this has been! We'll get back to the arena in a little bit, but first we are going to hear from the families!"

Prim lets out a strangled scream of frustration and fear. Rory tries to reassure her.

Are they serious? They aren't going to tell us who the cannon was for? I hand Posy back to my mother and stretch out my arms and shoulders. Curl my hands into fists.

Madge takes my hand in both of hers. "It _wasn't_ for Katniss, Gale. The girl from Two was dying. I'm only surprised she held on as long as she did."

Mrs. Everdeen agrees. Katniss hasn't lost enough blood to bleed out. She was just unconscious.

No one even mentions Peeta. Am I the only one who thinks Katniss might have risked it all for nothing? That he might have succumbed to the infection. Or had a bad reaction to the medicine?

Still, the most reasonable conclusion is that the cannon was for Clove. If there had been two deaths they would have made sure to fire both cannons before breaking for the interviews. To really torture us.

They begin with the District Two families. They confirm Cato and Clove have been dating for a year and that Clove had planned to volunteer for the Quarter Quell _next_ year. They are elated that Cato and Clove are going to be able to come home as co-victors. It is difficult to watch them predicting their victory with such assurance, knowing that Clove won't be a victor. That she is most likely dead at this very moment.

As we watch the family interviews on the center screen, they are replaying the feast on the side screens. So as they predict Clove's victory, we are watching Thresh crush her skull with a rock. The juxtaposition is jarring. Intentionally so. They are just as hard on the Careers' families as on everyone else.

As Ginger's older sister tells us how clever and resourceful she is, we watch Ginger hide in the Cornucopia, flee from Cato, and hide under a bush.

Thresh's sister and grandmother tell us how wonderful and strong he is. That they hope he can win. They don't sound very confident and as we watch him crush Clove's skull and let Katniss go, I know why. He is a gentle giant. He killed Clove in a rage to avenge Rue, but he doesn't have the killer instinct of most victors. Victors don't spare weaker tributes. Victor's don't worry about playing fair.

He should understand that everyone is a fair target. There are no rules. All is fair in love and the Hunger Games, as the old saying goes.

Peeta's family tells us they thought he was as good as dead before Katniss found him. They're proud of him. They're thankful that Katniss found him. That she is taking such wonderful care of him. They think she'll get his medicine and they'll both come home. We watch him argue with Katniss about her risking her life for him. We see Katniss feed him the syrup and kiss him goodbye. We see Katniss stumble back into the cave, bloody and disoriented then plunge the needle into his arm before blacking out.

Finally, we see the Katniss' "family" interviews. Soon we will know the cannon was for Clove. After the official interviews are over, they show the clip of Vick and me talking. I sense the surprise of the crowd and the family members around me. A clip like this is quite unusual to see. But, they just couldn't resist taping us in our unguarded moment and broadcasting it to the world, of course. I'm just hoping I didn't say anything that could hurt her in my uncensored talk with Vick.

We watch a replay of Katniss preparing for and going through the feast. Pinned and nearly killed by Clove. Asking Thresh to make it quick. Him releasing her. Fleeing back to the cave. We see her fumbling to inject Peeta's medicine as I hear Vick's voice over the speakers.

"But, she _has_ to save Peeta, right?" Vick asks me earnestly from the screen.

"She can't save him if she's _dead_," I hear my voice coldly pronounce as we see her slump to the ground, unconscious.

Damn the Capitol and the damn Gamemakers' theatrics. I bet the whole reason for this drawn out reveal was so they could play that clip of mine with the scene of her delivering the medicine before losing consciousness. Proving me wrong. Showing us it _is_ possible for her to be injured – even mortally injured - and still deliver the medicine to him. They are in control. It is all a show. The cannon was for Clove. This proves it. To me. All they care about is putting on a good show.

Varvara sashays up to the microphone. "I'd like to thank all of the family members for taking the time to share their thoughts and feelings with us this morning. And, what an _exciting_ morning it has been!" Humph, as if any of us had a choice to 'share' our thoughts and feelings. "There will now be a two hour intermission before the broadcast resumes." What? Another two hours?

"We have a very special _treat_ for you all during that time," she continues. "Seeing as it has been _so_ long since District Twelve has had _anyone_ make it to a feast, the Capitol has decided to provide you all with a little feast to celebrate!" she waves her hand to a curtained area where many servants stand. They part the curtains to reveal tables laden with food. The crowd stares a moment in awe before they move in on the food tables. The Peacekeepers direct people to get into orderly lines. For once, I am grateful of their presence. With most of the district living on the edge of starvation, the mere _sight_ of so much food could be enough to start a riot.

The sight of this "celebratory" feast is enough to make me sick even thinking about it. More pragmatic than me, my mother herds the kids over to the line, where Varvara promptly intercepts them and moves them to the front.

I want to object to any of us eating from the Capitol's feast, but my mother insists. "Food is food, whether it is tesserae grain or a feast, Gale," she says.

Varvara sidles up to me, taking my arm. "Aren't you _hungry_, Gale? The food is simply too delicious to pass up."

"No. I'm not hungry," I protest, feeling rebellious.

"Well then, why don't you give me a little tour and introduce me to some of your other friends?" her eyes sweep the crowds lined up waiting to eat.

"I'm not in a very sociable mood." I deliberately rebuff her.

She pouts, "Maybe I could find a way to cheer you up," she trails her too long fingernails gently down my arm.

"What would cheer me up is knowing that Katniss is all right," I tell her frankly. A bit too bold.

"And, if I could assure you of that?" she asks silkily. Is she really offering to give me some inside information?

"If you can prove it, then you would have yourself a tour guide for the afternoon," I return.

She appears to consider my offer for a moment. "Would seeing the live feed suffice as proof?"

The live feed? That is about _six hours_ ahead of the last footage we have seen. "Well yes, as long as I can see that she is okay," I reply coolly. I don't want to let on just how badly I want this information.

"Come with me," she purrs, sliding her hands down my arm and taking my hand. Just how does she make _everything_ she says sound like a sexual invitation?

I accompany her into the Justice Building. This is only the third time I have ever been in here. It has _never_ been for a good reason.

We round a corner and I come face to face with Madge.

"Gale!" she squeaks. "What are you doing in here?" she asks, quickly recovering her poise. She shoots a curious glance at my companion.

"Miss Vamp wanted me to show her around. But, there was something she needed to do first." I'm not sure if Varvara would want it spread around that she is giving out tribute updates. I imagine that is quite frowned upon.

Varvara immediately hones in on Madge's discomfort, "So, Miss Undersee, I have noticed you and Mr. Hawthorne here are quite friendly."

Madge regards her coolly, "Yes. Gale and Katniss are my two best friends. If you'll excuse me, my father is waiting for me," she nods at Varvara, looks at me oddly and walks off. I'm one of Madge's best friends? I hadn't thought of her in those terms before, but I suppose I am. We are.

Varvara escorts me into a control room filled with small television screens, telephones and equipment of all sorts. She sits down at a control panel and invites me to take an adjacent chair. She pushes a few buttons and the center screen fills with a picture of Katniss and Peeta in the cave. They are both still and there is a loud roaring sound in the background.

"Is that rain?" I ask, trying to identify the sound.

"Yes."

"I can't tell if she is all right. Is there another angle?"

"I can't access the other cameras unless they are on my menu. I can pull up their vitals," she offers

"What is that?" I ask.

"It shows their heart rates, blood pressures, breathing rates, and body temperatures."

"Okay. Do that." I watch as she pushes a few more buttons and another screen lights up. She selects Katniss' name and I can see her heart rate and breathing rate on a flowing chart.

A phone rings. Varvara pulls a phone out of her pocket and answers it. I've never seen a phone not attached to a wall before, so it catches my attention. Just imagine how valuable a few of those could be in the right hands at the right time. She covers the receiver, "I have to take this. Don't touch anything," she whispers into my ear.

I nod in understanding as she steps away from the console. I rub my ear to chase away the feel of her breathing on it. I alternate between watching Katniss' heart rate and the picture of her lying in a pool of blood in the cave.

Varvara hangs up and comes back to the console. "Would you like to see Peeta's vitals?" she offers.

Not particularly. But it would be nice to reassure Mr. Mellark, so I agree. She pulls up his charts on the screen above Katniss' and I see that his temperature is normal and his breathing and heart rates are similar to hers. The medicine must be working well.

We leave the Justice Building. I look at the clock and see we still have over an hour left of the intermission. Katniss is as well as can be expected given what happened this morning. Time to live up to my side of the bargain.

We walk around and I introduce her to various people. She asks them about Katniss and Peeta. And about me. And about Katniss and me. Thom and Jax enjoy telling her about my 'harem' of girlfriends and my cousinly devotion to Katniss. Darius tells a few carefully edited stories about us. It certainly wouldn't do him any good to be seen as too friendly with the people of the district. I know few people who know Peeta, so it's all about Katniss.

We come across Daphne and Madge in a heated discussion. How should I play this? Daphne is supposedly my girlfriend, but I don't want to hurt Madge by taking Daphne's side publically. I steer Varvara deliberately away from them.

"You don't want to come to your girlfriend's rescue?" she teases.

"She can handle herself," I say, although who am I talking about, actually?

When we come across Rory, I manage to pull him aside and give him the news for him to convey quietly to the Everdeens and Mr. Mellark.

I'm relieved that I managed to keep us in sight of the square during the entire intermission. I really don't want to be alone with this Capitol woman.

Soon enough, we are sitting back in our seats awaiting the resumption of the broadcast. My brothers look fat and happy after their unexpected feast. I'm glad my mother insisted on letting them eat, even though I refused to.

When Madge takes her seat I ask her about the scene with Daphne.

"Oh, she is just impossible." She fumes, telling me nothing useful. I smile. She is so cute when she is angry. Her color is high and a few golden tendrils have escaped her ponytail and now caress her cheek.

"What are you smiling at?" she asks in sudden surprise.

I lean over and whisper, "Katniss is all right. The cannon was for Clove."

"How do you know?" she asks. Then something occurs to her. Her eyes widen. "Is that why you were with her?" she whispers.

I nod and smile.

She shakes her head. "Gale Hawthorne, you could charm a snake. And you just did. You had better be careful you don't get bitten."

When the broadcast finally resumes, we see the hovercraft come to collect Clove's body as Cato watches stoically from the edge of the clearing.

"I'll make him pay, Clove. I'll make him pay," he vows solemnly as he turns from the Cornucopia and surveys the seemingly endless fields of grain that have been Thresh's home since the Games began. They ripple and undulate like waves in the wind. He goes to the lake to refill his water bottles before venturing into the void.

Ginger is asleep under her bush. She didn't get any sleep last night while she was hiding in the Cornucopia, so this isn't surprising.

We see Thresh opening the backpack with the number eleven on it. Inside is a large sleeping bag, wrapped around a sword. Thresh now has a real weapon. Cato had better watch out. Thresh turns towards the backpack marked with a two, opening it carefully. I'm very curious to see what the Gamemakers thought the Careers were in "desperate" need of.

He pulls out a suit made of some kind of shiny material. He examines it carefully, pulling on it, twisting it. Finally he stabs it with his sword. The sword bounces off! Well now! Body armor. They sent the Careers _body armor. _Ha,to protect them from Katniss' arrows. So, they _are_ worried Katniss will win. Thresh gets a weapon and the Careers were supposed to get body armor. Katniss got a vial of medicine for Peeta and _nothing_ for herself. They want her to lose. Just how _far_ will they go to ensure that she does?

Thresh's sword may not do him any good against a more skilled opponent. Even with the extra protection - body armor for him and not for Cato. Thresh stands up and takes off his shirt. He pulls the top piece of the body armor on. It fits like a hand in glove. A mailed fist. It seems to stretch and mold to fit. He strips and puts on the bottom portion of the armor and covers it all with his clothes. _Now_ he might have a real chance against Cato.

Katniss and Peeta are both still unconscious. _Just how much sleep syrup did you send, Haymitch?_ They show us close-ups of both of them, obviously having access to more cameras than Varvara did. The announcers tell us that Peeta's vital signs have improved dramatically since Katniss injected his medicine.

Thresh is now sleeping, deep in his grain field. Cato is going to have a difficult time finding him, especially now that night is falling in the arena. Well, he does have those glasses that seem to help him see at night. Those would be a valuable thing to have access to for a rebellion.

Ginger is awake and eating some food that was apparently in her backpack. She is also looking at some rope and wire that must have been included as well. Does she know how to set snares? Is that something they teach during training? It isn't something you can master in only a few lessons.

They cut back to the cave. Peeta moans. He's waking up, finally! He rubs his hand across his face before dropping it to his side. It lands in the pool of blood. He opens his eyes and looks at his hand in confusion and dawning fear. He sits up quickly, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the cave. He finds Katniss lying in the pool of her own blood.

"No! Katniss! _Katniss!"_ he crawls over to her and pulls her into his arms. "Katniss! Wake up!" he pleads desperately. "No,no,no… you didn't do this for me." He rocks her back and forth, crying. My gosh. This boy wears his feelings on his sleeve. Doesn't he ever think of the cameras? Doesn't he ever think to deny the Capitol the reactions they want from him? Pull yourself together!

He finally checks her pulse and pulls in a deep breath, hugging her tightly to him. "You're alive. You're going to be all right. You're safe. I'm here. I'll take care of you now," he says as he lays her down gently on the sleeping bag. He pulls himself together with a visible effort. About time! Sheesh. He cleans the blood off of her face and neck and bandages her wound. He is clearly relieved that the wound looks much worse than it really is.

He lies down beside her, pulling her gently into his arms, "Why?" he whispers. "Why would you risk yourself for me?"

_Good question. Why _would_ she risk everything for you? _He kisses her on the forehead before lying back to watch her sleep.

The anthem for day thirteen shows one death. Clove from Two. Only five remain.

Monday, Games Day 14

~Highlights~

It begins to rain in the arena. Torrential downpours. Part of the fields flood. The lake overflows. Cato is hacking his way through the grain fields, searching for Thresh despite the brewing storm. A man on a mission. I'm just glad his focus has switched to Thresh from Katniss. Thresh is on the move, keeping well ahead of Cato. Ginger is taking shelter in a cave not far from Katniss and Peeta. Peeta is awake, watching over Katniss, who is still unconscious. The Gamemakers will be sure to send Cato in their direction as soon as he finishes off Thresh. It is all about Katniss.

.

The guys tease me about adding Varvara to my list of conquests. As if I would want to conquer her. I shudder at the thought. The only girl I want is Katniss and she is conspicuously absent from my much-touted list. Why didn't I kiss her and tell her I love her before she left?

I work my full shift since Madge isn't free for an archery lesson today. Not that she really _needs_ any more archery lessons. With regular practice she will be better than me soon enough. Perhaps I need the "lessons"?

We're watching the Games at the Everdeens tonight, so I wash up quickly and rush to meet my family over there before it begins.

Cato stalks to the edge of the void, gazing out over the vast fields of grass concealing Thresh from view. "Stop hiding like a coward, Eleven! You're brave enough to bash in the head of a girl half your size! Let's see how you do against someone your own size! Come out and fight me like a man!" Cato taunts.

His only reply is a blast of icy wind whipping the rain across the open fields. Thresh is hunkered down out of sight. There are no visible paths to follow. No obvious clues to his whereabouts. Cato surveys the fields with a calculating, icy determination.

"I'm never gonna stop chasing you, Eleven. Never! I'll find you, and when I do you'll wish you had never seen the sun! You're never gonna see it again!"

Cato descends into the void, a large knife in his hand as he hacks away at the shoulder-high grasses impeding his search.

Thresh moves about stealthily, hunched over to keep his head below the top of the grasses and out of sight. He could probably sneak up on Cato, but he clearly sees himself as the prey, not as the predator. I sigh. Well, I want Cato to kill Thresh anyway. I distrust Katniss' ability to do so unhesitatingly. She's bound to try to settle her debt to him. The Careers are right on this – the Games are not the place for such thinking.

Cato pauses in suspicion when he comes upon a small clearing. A parachute arrives that gives him some kind of clue that he is in danger. He looks about suspiciously, picking up a nearby rock and tossing it into the middle of the clearing, where it is quickly consumed by the ground. He immediately backs out the way he came.

"Oooh, that was a close call!" declares the announcer. "One step further and he would have been trapped in that quicksand."

Have the Careers always been given these unfair advantages in the Games? Aside from a lifetime of training and sufficient food, that is. Or, is it only that they don't want Katniss to win and Cato is the best chance of taking her out? It's all about Katniss, I decide. If in doubt about Capitol motivations or intentions, just remember; this is all about Katniss. I will remember this principle. It explains a lot. Bet it will _predict_ a lot, too. If Katniss still has a future to predict.

Cato comes across another clearing, skirting it carefully and continuing on with his search. He is quite methodical as he crisscrosses the field nearest the Cornucopia, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake and clearly marking his path.

The rain and wind are unrelenting, as is Cato. He spends the day searching tirelessly. Cato is intelligent and relentless and a shadow of a doubt threatens to overshadow my confidence in Katniss' ultimate victory. Maybe I want Thresh to kill Cato?

He comes upon one of Thresh's grass huts and lays it to waste with evident satisfaction. He examines the food stored there, considering taking some for himself. In the end he decides to destroy it by stomping it into the muddy field and grinding it under his boots. Why not take the food? Or at least eat some of it before destroying it? Perhaps he thinks it is a trap. Or, perhaps he can no longer control his destructive nature?

When we finally see the cave, Peeta is crouched over Katniss, stroking her cheek and talking to her. Is she pressing her cheek into his hand?

"She's waking up!" Prim exclaims, dropping the mending she was holding. We all lean a little closer to the TV.

Peeta slowly strokes her cheek, "Katniss," he says gently. "Katniss, can you hear me?"

She opens her eyes, "Peeta." We all breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hey," he smiles. "Good to see your eyes again."

"How long have I been out?" she asks.

"Not sure. I woke up yesterday evening and you were lying next to me in a very scary pool of blood," he explains. "I think it's stopped, but I wouldn't sit up or anything."

Katniss reaches up to feel the bandage on her forehead. Peeta gives her a drink.

"You're better," she notes. And he is. He's been moving around well all day.

"Much better. Whatever you shot into my arm did the trick. By this morning, almost all the swelling in my leg was gone."

"Did you eat?" she asks.

"I'm sorry to say I gobbled down three pieces of that groosling before I realized it might have to last a while. Don't worry, I'm back on a strict diet," he says. _Great. Eat all of the supplies, bread boy. Do you suppose there is a bakery conveniently situated nearby?_

"No, it's good. You need to eat. I'll go hunting soon." I roll my eyes. _Tell him the truth. It was thoughtless._

"Not too soon, all right?" he brushes her hair back. "You just let me take care of you for a while."

He feeds Katniss, rubs her feet when she says they're cold, and tucks her back into the sleeping bag. This guy is too much. A veritable nurse. The perfect…husband. His tender care is… maddening.

"Your boots and socks are still damp and the weather's not helping much." We can hear the rain and thunder in the distance. If they broadcast much more of this domestic bliss, I'm going to write to complain.

"I wonder what brought on this storm. I mean, who's the target?" he asks.

_Katniss_, I answer.

"Cato and Thresh," Katniss answers. "Foxface will be in her den somewhere, and Clove…she cut me and then…" she trails off.

"I know Clove's dead. I saw it in the sky last night," he says. "Did you kill her?"

"No. Thresh broke her skull with a rock," she whispers.

"Lucky he didn't catch you, too," says Peeta.

"He did, but he let me go." She explains about the explosion, Rue, Marvel and the Feast. She explains about Thresh feeling he owed her. She explains everything he missed while they were apart or while he was unconscious.

"He let you go because he didn't want to owe you anything?" he asks in disbelief. Clueless Townie.

"Yes. I don't expect you to understand. You've always had enough. But if you'd lived in the Seam, I wouldn't have to explain."

"And, don't try. Obviously I'm too dim to get it," he sighs.

"It's like the _bread_. How I never seem to get over owing you for that," she says.

Wait, what bread? Oh, no.

"The bread? What? From when we were kids?" he asks.

_Kids?_ They've known each other since they were kids? Why didn't she ever mention him?

"I think we can let that go. I mean, you just brought me back from the dead," Peeta points out.

"But, you didn't _know_ me. We had never even spoken. Besides, it's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back. I wouldn't even have been here to do it if you hadn't helped me then," she says.

She wouldn't have been here to save him? Did he save her once upon a time when they were kids? Then, why wouldn't she have told me? She owes him. They have a bond. A long-standing, deep-seated bond.

"Why did you, anyway?" she continues.

"Why? You _know_ why," he says. "Haymitch said you would take a lot of convincing."

"Haymitch?" she asks. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Nothing," he says. "Cato and Thresh, huh?" Changing the subject? "I guess it's too much to hope that they'll simultaneously destroy each other?" They're working on it.

"I think we would like Thresh. I think he'd be our friend back in District Twelve," she says.

_Our_ friend Catnip? _Peeta_ was never _our_ friend. Not in District Twelve. It's a long way back to District Twelve, huh Catnip?

"Then let's hope Cato kills him, so we don't have to," Peeta says grimly.

Finally! Peeta's thinking straight. And, Cato better take care of Ginger, too. I'm beginning to doubt _these_ two could kill anyone other than Cato. Some Victors.

Katniss looks ready to cry. And, Katniss _doesn't_ cry. I am suddenly concerned. She's falling apart. An emotional basket case and there's much yet to survive.

Peeta notices and is immediately concerned. "What is it? Are you in a lot of pain?"

You really don't know her like I do, do you? Once you're back home, I'll make sure you never do, too.

"I want to go _home_, Peeta," she says plaintively.

"You will. I promise," he kisses her.

"I want to go home _now_," she says like a little girl. Which, actually, she is.

Prim is crying silently. I know how much she misses and fears for her sister.

"Tell you what. You go back to sleep and dream of home. And you'll be there for real before you know it," he says. "Okay?"

"Okay," she whispers.

How does he always know what to say to her? After so little time? It took me _years_ and I still…

"Wake me if you need me to keep watch," she says sleepily.

"I'm good and rested, thanks to you and Haymitch. Besides, who knows how long this will last?"

She settles down and falls asleep quickly while he sits beside her, stroking her hair absently.

~~.~~.~~

Cato continues to hack his way through the endless fields. The guy's stamina is unbelievable. He's been at it for hours, out in this cold, miserable rain. Thresh continues to evade quietly, but he is showing signs of fatigue. He is shivering and beginning to make noise as he moves about. He dare not stay in one place with Cato on the hunt so nearby. Shadowing Cato would be a good strategy if he was looking for an opening to attack, but he has passed up several opportunities. Most of the noise he makes is covered by the pounding rain and occasional cracks of thunder, but he is getting louder. The prey is wearing down. It's only a matter of time.

Hack…hack…hack…. On and on Cato goes, moving on towards the area closer to the lake. This seems to be where Thresh spends most of his time, close to the water. Close enough to the Cornucopia and the abandoned Career camp to keep them under observation.

He finds another of Thresh's hideouts and proceeds to destroy it as he did the last. He consumes it and it appears to give him even greater strength. And appetite for destruction. He voices it in a chant: "I'm going to find you District Eleven! And then I'm going to kill you! But, first you're going to pay for what you did to Clove! You killed her and I'm going to make you suffer!"

It's the _Hunger Games_, Cato. Killing is the point. With or without revenge, you unbalanced Neanderthal.

~~.~~.~~

Peeta wakes Katniss. They finish the rest of their food.

"Tomorrow's a hunting day," she says.

"I won't be much help with that," Peeta admits. "I've never hunted before." No, really?

"I'll kill and you cook," she says cheerily. _When is she ever this cheery?_ "And you can always gather."

"I wish there was some sort of bread bush out there," says Peeta longingly. Yeah, you run along looking for bread bushes. It'll be the most useful thing you do today.

"The bread they sent me from District Eleven was still warm," she sighs. She hands him some leaves, "Here, chew these," she says, popping a few into her mouth. Mint leaves. What we eat in the Seam when there isn't enough real food to satisfy an empty stomach.

****The anthem plays, showing no deaths for day 14 ****

"Where did Thresh go? I mean, what's on the far side of the circle?" she asks.

"A field. As far as you can see, it's full of grasses as high as my shoulders. I don't know, maybe some of them are grain. There are patches of different colors. But there are no paths." Peeta tells her.

You'd think a baker's son would _know_, but that would actually be _useful_. Can't have that in this relationship, can we? Your role - your _appointed_ role – is to be a damn millstone around Katniss' neck, you -

"I bet some of them are grain. I bet Thresh knows which ones, too. Did you go in there?" she asks.

"No. Nobody really wanted to track Thresh down in that grass. It has a sinister feeling to it. Every time I look at that field, all I can think of are hidden things. Snakes, and rabid animals, and quicksand. There could be anything in there."

Katniss looks skeptical. Mellark may be afraid of the grass, but my Catnip isn't. There is food in that field. There must be.

"Maybe there _is_ a bread bush in that field," she jokes. "Maybe that's why Thresh looks better fed now than when we started the Games."

"Either that or he's got very generous sponsors," says Peeta. "I wonder what we'd have to do to get Haymitch to send us some bread?" he lays his head back against the cave wall.

Katniss raises her eyebrows at his comment. What are you thinking Catnip?

She reaches out and takes his hand in hers. I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. "Well, he probably used up a lot of resources helping me knock you out," she smiles up at him mischievously from under her lashes. Where did she learn to do _that?_

"Yeah, about that," he answers, entwining his fingers with hers. "Don't try something like that again."

"Or what?" she quips.

"Or…or…" is he finally out of words? "Just give me a minute."

"What's the problem?" she grins up at him. She's _flirting_ with him. I can't believe Katniss is in the Hunger Games, sitting in a damp cave in the middle of a storm and FLIRTING with Peeta Mellark.

"The problem is we're both still alive," _is_ that a problem, Mellark? Are you going to _make_ it a problem if you both make it home? "Which only reinforces the idea in your mind that you did the right thing," he says. I _hate_ it when I agree with him.

"I did do the right thing," she asserts. No, you didn't, Catnip. I'm on his side on this.

"No! Just don't, Katniss!" he snaps. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

"Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta; did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who…who worries about…what it would be like if…" if _what? _Just spit it out, Katniss. I'm dying to hear.

"If what, Katniss," he asks gently.

"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," she evades.

What is she talking about? Haymitch warned her about…what? Revealing her feelings? Talking about her fears? It isn't the kind of thing I would normally worry about with Katniss. She has a very hard time opening up to anyone, never mind a boy she barely knows. And, in front of the _whole_ world. I guess Haymitch assumes she is overemotional. Like most girls I know. Like Daphne.

"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says as he closes the distance between them. Oh, no. Not again. Not the Kissing Games. Part II of a never-ending episode.

This kiss is as _different_ from the last one as it could possibly be. I would know, trust me. Instead of him unconscious and her distracted about the upcoming feast, they are both totally focused upon each other. Their kiss. She leans into him, clearly enjoying it. She is not acting. She'd never be this convincing if she were. This is not part of any strategy. She cares about him. My heart drops at the realization. _She cares_. She loves?

He breaks it off and she is disappointed. He glances about their cave. Wondering if there are cameras? He kisses her on her nose. "I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it's bedtime anyway," he says.

Katniss takes the first watch, but they settle into the sleeping bag together again. Tonight Peeta is fully conscious. In a sleeping bag with my Catnip. _My Catnip_. Who wants to be in a sleeping bag with him. With someone other than me.

She rests her head on one of his arms. The other rests protectively over her as she snuggles into him and he holds her close.

No, it's just to keep warm, right? Yes. That is it. She doesn't really want to be so close to him. She's always been very reserved that way. Doesn't like to be touched. She's just chilled because the damn Gamemakers keep dropping the damn temperature!

~Tuesday, Games Day 15~

Two weeks. She's been in the arena for two weeks today. Only three more need die for her to come home. Only three. She can still do this. She can. And will.

~Highlights~

The highlights are largely made up of shots of yesterday's game of hide and seek between Cato and Thresh, although we also get a shot of Ginger foraging for food in the rain and Katniss cuddled close to Peeta in the sleeping bag. How cold can it be in the middle of the day? A few days ago it was hot enough to cook soup using rocks.

.

After work, I meet Madge at school and walk her home. Fortunately, Daphne is nowhere in sight. When we get to the Mayor's house, Annis has a snack laid out for us in the TV room where Mrs. Undersee is. She tells us that nothing is happening in the arena again today; just a deluge of rain that everyone is taking cover from. Apparently, Cato and Thresh are being given the morning off.

Mrs. Undersee comes to watch our lesson today. She is very impressed with how well Madge shoots after so few lessons. We joke around about talent being in the jeans. I mean the _genes_. Madge begs her mother to shoot, but she declines saying she is too out of practice. After our lesson, I join the Mayor and his family for dinner before heading to the Square to meet my family.

~Mandatory Viewing in the Square~

~Games Day 15~

Thunder shakes the ground in the arena. Streaks of lightning arc across a dark sky. Why is it so dark? Were these scenes shot before sunrise or are the clouds so thick they block the sun? Anything is possible in the arena. Their arena.

Cato has returned to the abandoned camp to retrieve one of the tents. He doesn't set it up, but wraps it around himself in an attempt to ward off some of the chill. He must be soaked through to the bone, after all those hours chasing after Thresh in the rain. He manages to get a fire started, despite the persistent rain. Arrogant Career, curling up to go to sleep beside a fire. Does he think he is so invincible that no one will come after him? He must be supremely confident he is the only hunter left in the arena. If only Katniss wasn't still recovering from her injury, she would take him out. Easily. This Career has no idea how lucky he is.

Thresh watched as Cato suspended his search for the day before making his way to the woods for the night. He climbs up a sturdy tree for the night. Clever. I doubt Cato will look for him there.

Ginger is huddled in her sleeping bag in a cave near Katniss and Peeta.

They are cuddled _so_ close together in that sleeping bag. Wrapped together. I _hate_ that sleeping bag. I hope they are forced to abandon it. Soon.

"Peeta, You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"

Can she really be this bored? Are the Gamemakers actually going to force us to listen to the lovesick reminiscences of Peeta Mellark? Well, I suppose _anything_ is better than the Kissing Games, Part III.

"Oh, let's see." Yes, apparently they are. "I guess it started the first day of school," he begins. "We were five." Oh, no. Are we are going to have to listen to _eleven years_ of him mooning over her? "You had on a red plaid dress and your hair…it was in two braids instead of one." He runs his hand down her hair as he remembers. I don't remember her ever wearing her hair like that. "My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."

"Your father? Why?" she asks.

"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" he says.

Mrs. Mellark screeches in outrage, glares daggers at her husband and smacks him upside the head. He grabs her hand without even looking and puts it back into her lap. He never takes his eyes off of the screen. Off of Peeta.

The crowd gasps and begins whispering. Over Peeta's revelation or Mrs. Mellark's sharp reaction? Both, really.

Mrs. Everdeen buries her face in her hands in embarrassment.

I feel sorry for the Mellarks. Particularly _Mr_. Mellark, who has always been a decent man. A very decent man. A man who can always be counted on to make a fair trade, no matter who he is dealing with. A man who promises to feed the little sister of his son's competition in the Hunger Games. What must it be like to have your secrets bared to the entire district? In such a very public forum? And, by your own son? I cringe for him.

The scene suddenly switches from the cave to the Cornucopia. A roll of thunder cascades over the speakers surrounding the square. Lightning arcs over the Cornucopia, momentarily lighting up the field as bright as day.

Cato stands at the edge of the void near the Cornucopia.

Thresh has finally been chased out of his field by some fierce looking mutts. He finds himself suddenly face-to-face with Cato. As intended. Game over. For one. (No, for both, I hope against hope.)

Cato grins a wickedly evil greeting. "At long _last._ I have been looking for you _Eleven._" He swings his sword menacingly about him, seeking to intimidate Thresh. Won't _he_ be surprised when he realizes that Thresh is wearing body armor? Body armor that was intended for him. As if a Career ever needs such an added advantage. Maybe this will be a fair fight after all.

Thresh unsheathes his sword and brandishes it at Cato. Physically they appear to be a match. Thresh is a few inches taller and has longer arms. But, Cato is more muscled. More athletic. And, more skilled. The deciding factor in this match is certain to be skill. A strong farm boy versus a trained Career shouldn't be much of a contest with weapons like swords. But, Thresh does have two advantages. The body armor and the fact that Cato doesn't realize he has it. If he can exploit that before Cato realizes…

"Good. I'm glad you're armed. I'm not a small girl you can bash with a rock, like a coward. I'm going to make you pay for what you did to her!" Cato promises.

Apparently, the Careers in Two are mentally prepared as well as physically. Taught how to undermine any feelings of confidence an opponent may have. Psyche them out.

Thresh doesn't speak. He just stands his ground and waits for Cato to make the first move. His first mistake. Cato will simply learn about his armor during his initial attack instead of during Thresh's initial attack- when it could be too late.

Cato closes the distance and swings his heavy sword at Thresh. Thresh counters it easily, but Cato isn't concerned. He's just testing Thresh. Playing with him. Giving the Capitol their show. Back and forth they go; the clash of thunder and the clash of their swords reverberate throughout the square.

Thunder shakes the ground in the arena. They won't take us away from this penultimate battle of the Games to see what Katniss and Peeta are doing right now. Thankfully, we'll miss some of Peeta's storytelling. Once this battle is decided, the winner will have to fight Katniss to decide the victor. No, wait. I nearly forgot Ginger. And, I bet that is what _she_ is counting on. Everyone forgetting her existence. She is a clever one.

It's impossible to guess the time of day with the sun obscured behind the storm clouds. Lightning periodically illuminates the scene. Cries of pain. Grunts. Thunder shaking the ground. Cato threatening to cut Thresh up with Clove's knives.

Thresh is being slowly backed up to the lake.

Cato is taunting Thresh. How he is going to suffer a slow death by his sword. How Cato is going to cut him up piece by piece. Cato finally takes a swing at one of Thresh's arms. He's clearly shocked when his sword does no damage.

Thresh takes advantage of Cato's shock to get in a good blow. Cato deflects it at the last second, taking a small cut on his non-sword arm. If Cato had depended on a successful cut to thwart a Thresh attack, it could've been fatal. Thresh, you just lost your advantage. In fact, you just lost.

"So, what's this?" Cato asks, more intrigued than worried. "Body armor? From the feast? Quite a generous bounty," he comments, seemingly unperturbed. He takes another swing, knocking down Thresh's arm but doing no damage. "So, did you even bother to look into my backpack or did you just toss it as you ran?" he asks conversationally. "You _run_ an awful lot." He's trying to unnerve Thresh again. Make him think he's unaffected by their long, intense battle.

Thresh ignores him. Probably better not to tell him it is _his_ body armor. No telling how he'd take the news.

They go back and forth endlessly, neither one gaining a clear upper hand. But, I get the sense Cato is toying with Thresh. Thresh need only protect his head, and the area left bare between the upper and lower armor (since he is taller than the limits the suit is designed for), yet he can attack Cato anywhere. Hopefully, he will at least wound Cato and make him an easier target for Katniss.

Thresh dives for Cato, taking them both to the muddy ground. The impact sounds bone-crushing. I can only hope Cato broke some ribs on impact.

Posy is getting harder and harder to distract. She is craning her neck trying to see, and I'm trying my hardest to keep her from looking without hurting her in the process or attracting the Peacekeepers attention.

I'm so thankful Madge is beside me. She is always ready with a small comment or trinket to distract Posy at the most crucial moments.

They're back on their feet; still going at it, despite the endless rain and the encroaching darkness. They are both slowing down. Cato slips in the mud. Thresh moves in as a large animal jumps out of the trees and races towards them, growling viciously. Cato regains his footing again and evades both Thresh and the mutt.

Madge produces a cookie for Posy.

The scream of a sword whipping through the air resounds around the square.

Arterial spray covers Cato's face and the camera. All is illuminated by an unnatural moonlight breaking through the darkness. How convenient, Gamemakers.

I hug Posy tight as Vick buries his face into my arm. I can feel him trembling as I pull him, too, closer.

Thresh's life is lost in the Hunger Games. His cannon lost in the thunder of the storm.

The mutt seems to have mysteriously disappeared. Apparent for all to see, they have already selected their winner. Can't anyone _see? _It's all about Katniss, districts.

They obviously want to have the decisive battle come down to Cato and Katniss. And, Katniss will win that battle. The real question is…what will they do then? With Peeta and Katniss? I really can't see them allowing two victors. I just... can't. Will they ensure one of them dies in the battle with Cato?

Cato rummages through Thresh's packs, finding the suit of armor intended for Clove in the one labeled with a Two. I can see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the clues. He takes Clove's suit of armor and Thresh's sword before tossing the packs onto Thresh's body, ensuring they leave the arena with him.

He retreats to the lake to watch the gentle giant from Eleven be lifted from the arena.

We are returned to the scene of Peeta's lovesick childhood reminiscences in the cave. At least I don't have to maintain my stranglehold on Posy for this.

"…ran off with a coal miner," Peeta repeats to remind us where we left off.

"What? You're making that up!" Katniss exclaims with a delighted smile. Oh, joy. We didn't miss any of it, it seems.

"No, true story," he says, grinning in remembrance. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?'" Peeta sounds like he worshiped his dad. "And he said, 'Because when he sings…even the birds stop to listen.'" I sneak a look and see that Mr. Mellark is nodding his head slightly. This Peeta is a natural story-teller.

Everyone is stunned. "They did," Mrs. Everdeen says softly, but practically everyone in the front rows hears her. A murmur in the crowd carries the comment to those farther away. Prim lays her head on her mother's shoulder.

Katniss stares up at Peeta for a moment, totally enthralled. "That's true. They do. I mean, they did," she says softly.

Peeta continues, "So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And, I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent," he reminisces.

"I remember that day," Madge whispers to me. "I was so jealous of how sweetly she sang," she smiles, lost in memory.

"Oh, please," Katniss laughs on-screen. She doesn't remember. But, I know it must be true. I know. And I fear.

"No, it happened," he insists. "And right when your song ended, I knew – just like your mother – I was a goner," he declares. "Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you." He takes her hand in his, entwining their fingers. I'd like to _remove_ his fingers.

"Without success," Katniss adds softly.

"Without success," he confirms. "So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck," he finishes with a flourish.

This guy's one-track mind is about to succeed, I realize in frustration. Someone, stop him! He's in her mind. On the way toward her heart. Where are the action-oriented Gamemakers when you need them?

I realize… _none_ of this is an act. He really has been in love with her since they were five.

"You have a … remarkable memory," she whispers, haltingly, searching his face. Is it dawning on her as well?

"I remember everything about you," he says reverently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention." He strokes her cheek and jawline, as if memorizing her. Imprinting. Deliberately.

"I am now," she replies.

"Well, I don't have much competition here," he says self-deprecatingly.

That's right. We'll just wait until you're back in Twelve. Then we'll see what's real and what's not.

She leans up to kiss him, "You don't have much competition anywhere."

She didn't just say that. _You don't have much competition anywhere. You don't have much competition __**anywhere**__. _Not even in District Twelve? Not even me? She knows I am home watching this. Every single minute. She knows this will be broadcast during the mandatory viewing. She knows. And, she said it anyway.

She doesn't truly care what I think. What I feel. Being forced to watch them cuddled up together in a sleeping bag. Kissing. Talking. Bonding. Imprinting. I have heard her talk more to him in the past few days than she has talked to me in the past year. Me, her best friend of four years.

But, I'm a hunter. I can be patient. I can wait. I have been patiently waiting _for her_. For a long time. For her to grow up. For her to realize there is more to life than simply surviving. For her to realize there is more to us than mere friendship. For her to realize that we are two halves of one whole. That we are each incomplete without the other. That we were always meant to be. And are _still_ meant to be.

I love her, but I've never told her. I thought for sure I'd have the opportunity when she came home. That _surely_ she would choose me when she was ready for a relationship. I never expected any competition for her affection. Her love. I'm her best friend. Her only _close _friend. To hear her declare to someone else that they have no competition for her affections - that _I_ am no competition – is heart-breaking. She may as well have said my name. This is not all about you, Katniss, you know.

_You don't have much competition anywhere. There's no one else for me in District Twelve. Gale is no competition to you, Peeta. _

Tear my heart out and grind it beneath your boot why don't you, Katniss? My heart is _yours_. Even now. It has been in your keeping for ages, if only you had realized. If only you had cared. And it just stopped beating. As soon as you gave your heart to another.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

All of your wonderful reviews, alerts and favorites are completely overwhelming and humbling. I'll try to thank everyone here, but we had over 40 reviews to each of the last few chapters, so hopefully I don't miss anyone.

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter: mango42, anon, leatherboundinsanity, Panda, fading denim, Logan, Paladin of Farore, starfirefan4ever, 4-eva-bookworm, Madhatterpenguin, AliceW, Ms Cassity, yellowsunshine eb, page-394-always1, x-LiveFantasy-x, HabsGirl31, Renae X, darrena, Rae Montgomery, The Magic of the Night, invisibleunicornz, neopsycho9, gabz1197, Lorelei Eve, FlamingArrows, Maddy Hawthorne, Pinklove21, and Lovely Minnie Minty

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, bookworm600, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

Oh, and I loved the movie! I'm so glad they didn't ruin it like so many other books to movie translations seem to. I wish the cave scene hadn't been so changed, but small price to pay for such a great movie.

I hope you all enjoyed Gale's reactions to the full cave scene in this chapter (:


	23. Chapter 23

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 23**

Tuesday, Games Day 15

Their kiss is, _thankfully_, interrupted by the arrival of a parachute. _Thank you, Haymitch_. Apparently, I'm not the only one sick of the Kissing Games. Is this what he was worried about? Them getting carried away in the arena? So he interrupted them? I'm reeling with shock. What is happening to her in there? Who is she becoming?

As they eat the food just delivered, they talk and laugh about something in their shared past. Yeah, all twenty-one days of it. Twenty-one days. Since the first time they spoke. Since we said goodbye. Since I've seen her. Since I've started to wonder who she is.

I hate it. Imagining what else has happened that they _aren't_ sharing.

"It's going to be a long hour," she complains after they decide to wait before having seconds. I couldn't agree more.

"Maybe not that long," says Peeta. "What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me…no competition…best thing that ever happened to you…"

I close my eyes for a moment. Maddening. Breathe, Gale. Just breathe.

"I don't remember that last part," she blushes. Blushes?

"Oh, that's right. That's what _I_ was thinking," he teases. "Scoot over, I'm freezing," he says, encouraging her to cuddle closer.

That clever one-track mind. They're _already_ sharing a sleeping bag. Her head rests on his shoulder; his arm around her waist. How much closer does he imagine she can get? I just bet he imagines quite a bit about her getting closer. Much closer. In every way.

"So, since you were five, you never even noticed any other girls?" she asks as if there could be a no more riveting topic in all of Panem.

Ugh! Why is she so interested in the history of his crush? Hasn't she tortured me enough? Everyone enough? Yet? She must be putting the audience to sleep with this drivel. I turn to the crowd as they watch, surveying them closely. They are quiet and attentive. Smiling. Sighing. It's maddening. I turn my attention back to my girl on the large screen in the square, cuddled up with the baker's son. I'd like to thrash him.

"No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you."

"I'm sure that would thrill your parents, you liking a girl from the Seam," rolling her eyes.

"Hardly. But I couldn't care less. Anyway, if we make it back, you won't be a girl from the Seam, you'll be a girl from the Victor's Village," he points out.

He's right. Katniss won't live just down the street from me anymore. She won't be my neighbor. She'll live across the district, with only Haymitch and _bread boy_ for neighbors.

"But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!" she cries in mock horror.

"Ah, that'll be nice," says Peeta, pulling her _even_ closer; she's practically lying on top of him, now. "You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy."

Yes_. Very_ cozy.

"Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales," he continues, painting a picture for the audience. And for her.

"I told you, he hates me!" she laughs.

How does he do that? How can he make her laugh so easily in such a place? In such a situation? I've always considered each laugh from her as the most magical gift. And, something she never does _inside_ the fence. Something she only does for me. _Did for me._

"Only sometimes. When he's sober, I've never heard him say one negative thing about you," Peeta teases.

"He's _never _sober!" she argues. Yeah, but…nice rejoinder.

The audience in the Square laughs in appreciation. Poking fun at our only living Victor is a most treasured pastime.

"That's right. Who am I thinking of? Oh, I know. It's _Cinna_ who likes you. But that's mainly because you didn't try to run when he set you on fire. On the other hand, Haymitch… well, if I were you, I'd avoid Haymitch completely. He hates you."

"I thought you said I was his favorite," she reminds him, pouting playfully. Pouting now, too?

"He hates _me_ more. I don't think people, in general, are his sort of thing," Peeta delivers his deadpan quip.

The crowd roars in appreciation as they continue to poke fun at Haymitch. Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the Second Quarter Quell. The drunken Victor we all love to hate. No, not hate…ridicule. Not just him, but his predicament. He may be a disgraceful drunk of a victor, but he's _our_ disgraceful drunken victor.

Haymitch is soon pulled in front of the cameras in the press room of the Game Center, answering questions about his tributes.

"Let's start with the most important. _Are_ you ever sober?" the first snide question smoothly connecting to the on-screen dialog. Katniss and Peeta have them _all_ wrapped around their fingers. Except me.

"I haven't had a drink since interview night," Haymitch surprises us all by announcing. "And I won't as long as _my_ tributes are alive and in the arena."

Well, then. Maybe he does care about bringing them home alive.

"Do you have a favorite?"

"Mentors don't pick favorites. That would be _highly_ unprofessional," he evades.

So, he does have a favorite. Katniss. The fighter. The one with a real chance. If Peeta survives, it will be only due to his association with her. Everything is all about Katniss.

"Who has the better chance in a fight against Cato? Katniss or Peeta?" I roll my eyes in disgust. Who do they think? Lover Boy or the girl with the bow? The _long-range_ weapon.

Haymitch's lips twitch up at the corner as he contemplates his answer. "They both stand a chance. Katniss, because she has the bow, has the better chance, but I would never count Peeta out. He's strong and determined. He's also the smartest tribute I've met in my twenty-five years of involvement with the Hunger Games."

"Smarter than you?" a reporter asks mockingly.

"Let's just say I'm glad I didn't have to face these two in _my_ Games." Hmm, I think he means it.

"Do you think they will both win?"

"Well, it's not over until the final cannon fires. I'll believe it when Claudius Templesmith announces them Victors."

"And, what will you do when they do?"

"After I've seen them both, I'll have a drink. And my first full night's sleep since they entered the arena. But, you'll have to excuse me now. I have tributes to watch over."

.

We transition back to the arena where Katniss and Peeta are finishing a second helping of their meal. As the anthem begins to play, Peeta goes to the entrance to look outside.

"There won't be anything to see tonight. Nothing's happened or we would've heard a cannon," Katniss predicts.

Peeta watches as Thresh's face is projected in the sky.

"Katniss," Peeta says gently, turning back towards her.

"What? Should we split another roll, too?" she asks hastily. Is she deliberately ignoring him? She senses unwelcome news? Come on, Katniss. You didn't want to kill him. Get your mind in the Game. First principle of the Games…it is no game. Learn it or die.

"Katniss," he repeats, but she continues on about the food, definitely refusing to acknowledge him.

It's like she is trying to forget where they are. Distance herself from the Games. _Keep your head in the Game, Catnip._

"I'm going to split one. But, I'll save the cheese for tomorrow," she persists. Always way single-minded. Another reason Peeta's one-track mind is so…maddening. Something in common.

He is silent; patiently waiting for her to acknowledge him.

Finally, she looks up to see him staring at her. "What?"

"Thresh is dead," he informs her.

"He can't be," she immediately denies.

"They must have fired the cannon during the thunder and we missed it," he tells her.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's pouring buckets out there. I don't know how you can see anything," she pushes past him to look outside herself.

"You all right?" Peeta asks as she slumps against the rocks.

She shrugs, "It's just… if we didn't win … I wanted Thresh to. Because he let me go. And because of Rue."

"Yeah, I know," Peeta agrees. "But this means we're one step closer to District Twelve," he says evenly.

Right. Keep her on track, Peeta. Remind her how close District Twelve is getting. Only two more. Just two more.

He hands her a plate of food. "Eat. It's still warm," he encourages.

She takes a bite, "It also means Cato will be back hunting us."

Good, girl's getting back on track.

"And he's got supplies again," speculates Peeta.

Not really. He destroyed everything of Thresh's.

"He'll be wounded, I bet," Katniss says.

"What makes you say that?" Peeta asks.

"Because Thresh would have never gone down without a fight. He's so strong, I mean, he was. And they were in _his_ territory," she assumes incorrectly.

"Good," says Peeta. "The more wounded Cato is the better. I wonder how Foxface is making out."

Good name. Clever as a fox, that one.

"Oh, she's fine," Katniss says irritably. "Probably be easier to catch Cato than her."

"Maybe they'll catch each other and we can just go home. But we better be extra careful about the watches. I dozed off a few times," Peeta admits.

"Me, too. But, not tonight," Katniss agrees.

How can they have been so careless as to fall asleep on watch in the Hunger Games? Wrapped up in each others arms.

They crawl back into that damn sleeping bag for yet another night. Together.

This has got to end soon. There are only four of them left. I wonder if the Gamemakers will end it tomorrow.

Just as I'm thinking that, the rain abruptly stops and a too-bright moon comes out in the arena.

.

I tell my mother I'll see them at home as the square empties. I watch as Varvara prepares to leave for the night. As she leaves the set I approach her.

"Miss Vamp?"

"Gale!" she exclaims, surprised but pleased. "Please, call me _Varvara_."

"Varvara," I concede, letting the moment hang.

"I was just heading back to my room. Would you care to walk with me?" she asks, with a flirtatious bat of her suspiciously long eyelashes. Does she think I'm about to tumble into her bed? Well, I _did_ approach her. I wonder how old she is. Capitol people often appear younger than their appearance would lead one to expect. She's only been on the show for a few years, but still she must be several years older than I am.

"Of course. But, I only have a few moments." Better splash some cold water on her hopes before things get out of hand.

"_Splendid_," she snakes her arm through mine, and we begin walking toward the Mayor's house. I remember Madge telling me some of the media people stay at her house. I wonder who has my room.

I smile slightly, hoping she will give me an honest answer. "Varvara," might as well use her name, maybe it'll help. "I was just wondering if you think school and work will be in session tomorrow."

She shoots me a sidelong glance from under those ridiculously long lashes, contemplating her answer. "I should imagine they will be _tomorrow_. But, Thursday on the other hand…" she trails off.

I nod. It's as I expected. They're going to give Cato a day to rest and recuperate from his injuries. We're approaching the Mayor's house. "Do you think that two victors are possible?"

"I don't think it is very likely that the District Two tribute will go down without a fight. They're expecting an epic battle between Two and Twelve. Perhaps two survivors from Twelve is... too much to hope for?" she suggests.

"And, everyone forgets about Five until the very end?" I ask.

"Haha, I see what you mean. One never knows what will happen until it does." We've arrived at Madge's house. "Would you care to come inside?"

"No. Thank you. I have to work in the morning. I guess I'll be seeing you on Thursday."

"Until Thursday," she purrs as I turn to leave. I almost wish I could take a shower, but what would be the point of that seeing as I have to work tomorrow?

When I arrive home, I find the house quiet and everyone in bed except Vick. He sits at the table working by the light of a single candle. I sigh in exhaustion. All I want to do is crawl into bed and get four or five hours of sleep before I have to get up for work. But I can't leave my ten-year-old brother alone, working. Not on such a night. Vick's tribute notebook deserves my time. Vick deserves it.

"What're you working on, buddy?" But, I know. Thresh died today. Vick is immediately adding him to the list.

He looks up, his eyes glassy in the flickering candlelight. "Thresh," he says simply.

Yes, Thresh. Glad he's gone, though. Nothing and nobody is more important than Katniss' survival. To me.

I sit next to him and put my arm around his too slender shoulders and look at what he has written. Thresh's life has been reduced to a few paragraphs, written by a boy who never met him. Do others remember, or do they all try to forget? How many special people are there like Vick in Panem? Why can't one of _them_ rule? Why is it always the tyrannical? The oppressive?

I see that Thresh is the 1723rd tribute to die in the Hunger Games. Number 112 in the notebooks Vick's been keeping since he was six. How many more children will have to die before the country rises up in rebellion?

_It's raining. It's cold. It's dark. The wind howls through the trees. I'm running. Tripping. Stumbling. Afraid. Of the dark? Of the howling wind? Of the screams? Screams? Yes, screams echo all around me. I spin, trying to locate her. She's screaming. It echoes through the treetops. It's lost in the thunder. I have to find her. Before it's too late. I don't know which way to go. I'm lost. I'm never lost in the woods. But, I've never been here before. Where am I? Lost._

_The arena. I'm in the Games. But, why? Why am I here? To save her. I have to save Katniss. She needs me. She's calling out to me. I trip. I'm falling. Falling. Through the ground which swallows me up like quicksand. I can't breathe. The wet sand fills my mouth. I can't move my legs. They're trapped._

_I look at my hands. They're covered with blood. It's dark, I'm under the sand, but I can see my hands. Blood. Whose blood? I'm not injured, am I?_

_I hear Katniss scream again and suddenly I'm falling again. Falling out the bottom of the quicksand. I land with a hard crash on the ground. It's wet. It smells like copper. And salt. Blood. It smells like blood. Her blood. I look around frantically. I'm in a cave. There's a pool of blood on the ground. I've been here before. But, I can't remember when._

"_Katniss! Katniss!" I yell, but it isn't my voice I hear. I see her. She's unconscious. I try to move closer, but I'm stuck. I'm a part of the cave wall. I'm a damn rock! Like the rocks I mine. Someone crawls over to her, "Katniss!" I know that voice. That voice. I'm being sucked deeper and deeper into rock. Farther and farther away from her, _"Katniss!" I scream as I come awake.

Rory whispers, "You okay, Gale?"

"Yeah, go back to sleep," I take in a few deep, calming breaths. A nightmare. It was only a nightmare. Except, it isn't.

~Wednesday, Games Day 16~

It is pouring rain today. Buckets. The mines are damper than usual, but at least they aren't flooding. Not yet, anyway. And, I have an archery lesson with Madge today, so I only have to work half the day.

~Highlights~

We hear Katniss screaming and immediately I can't breathe. It's like my dream. I look around me at the rock walls of the tunnels. I force myself to take a deep breath of the foul air of the mine. Foul, coal dust. Better than blood.

We see shots of everyone. Katniss and Peeta in the cave and out walking in the forest. Ginger skulking along in search of something. Cato tending to his wounds.

A single cannon.

_Not Katniss not Katniss not Katniss _

As I head home after the highlights, I am still telling myself it's not Katniss, not Katniss, not Katniss. The rain feels as daggers against my skin and I'm glad for the distraction. I pull off my shirt with a wry smile. My mother would kill me if she saw me walking around without my shirt, but she won't be home right now. She's out picking up laundry this afternoon.

I walk down the path towards the Seam, my face turned towards the sky. The cold rain is invigorating. It reminds me I am alive. After weeks of numbing worry and very little sleep, the reminder is welcome.

I'm startled out of my contemplation of the rain as someone crashes into me. I reach out reflexively to catch them and find Madge in my arms. A very wet, bedraggled Madge.

"Madge? Where are you going?" I ask in surprise.

"It was District Five," she says breathlessly, gripping my arms desperately.

"The cannon?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. My mother wasn't feeling well this morning, so I stayed home. It just happened. I'm surprised they managed to fit it into the highlights so quickly. Katniss is alive."

I pull Madge to me in relief. Katniss is alive.

Madge smiles up at me, looking like a bedraggled kitten standing here in the rain. Before I realize what is happening, I'm kissing her.

I'm standing here in the pouring rain kissing Madge. It feels wonderful to just let go of my worries and enjoy this moment. She wraps her arms around my neck, her hands in my hair. After a few moments she pulls back.

"Are you…are you wishing I was Katniss?" she whispers as I kiss her jawline, working my way towards her ear.

I pause, pulling back in surprise to look into her eyes. "No," I answer truthfully. "No, I've never thought about her when I'm kissing you."

"I'm glad," she smiles up at me. Still, it is noteworthy to celebrate Katniss' survival by kissing another girl. Still feels right, somehow.

I trace her jawline with my fingertips. "Besides, Katniss announced to the whole world that I'm no competition for Peeta, remember."

She remains silent, and rests her head against my chest.

"How did Ginger die?" I ask, breaking the spell of the moment.

"Peeta killed her with some poisonous berries," she replies, pulling out of my arms.

"Berries?"

"Nightlock."

We begin walking back towards my house, and I pull my filthy work shirt back on. Madge convinces me to go straight to her house for our lesson.

"After all, what is the point in going home to change only to walk through the storm and arrive at my house soaked through to the skin again? You have a change of clothes at my house."

"All right. As long as you promise me Annis won't follow me into the bathroom this time."

"I'll do you one better. I'll make sure neither Annis _nor_ Varvara follow you," she needles.

The mention of Varvara puts me on edge. "Do you think it wise that we practice with all of the Capitol people staying at the house? You might not want it to get out that you're giving lessons to anyone who asks."

"No one ever goes down to the gym during the day. They sleep until noon, and then they are busy with the Games," she dismisses.

After we reach the house, Madge shows me to my room, which fortunately isn't being used by Varvara or another member of the Hunger Games media team. I take a quick shower, using as little shampoo and soap as I can manage, and change into my old clothes that were left here the last time. They've been cleaned and neatly folded in a drawer.

We watch a short bit of the Games while having our snack. Sure enough, Ginger is gone and only three remain. Katniss and Peeta sit cooking their meal. Cato sits nursing his wounds. He's not even wearing the extra set of armor, yet! If Katniss went hunting for him now, she could end it. Now. Today. Why is she leaving it up to Cato and the Gamemakers to decide when to engage? She would have a clear advantage if she attacked _today. _Hunter, not prey.

We do some light calisthenics to warm up before I have Madge lift some light weights. Then, we move over to have Madge shoot for an hour or so, as I offer her the tips she doesn't really need. We spend a pleasant afternoon bantering back and forth. She has me shoot a few arrows, laughing when she realizes she outscored me. I try to defend myself. We're using a small bow designed for a woman. If I had my bow it would be a fair contest.

"Then take me out to the woods once the fence is off and we can see," she proposes.

"We'll see," I evade. I wonder what she would think of the woods. She hasn't asked me to take her out since the day she told me she knew how to shut off the fence. Very useful information I'll have to get her to give me, even if I don't take her out to the woods.

We spin around as we hear the door at the head of the stairs open and the unmistakable sound of mingled Capitol voices reverberating down the staircase.

I hurriedly grab the bow and stuff it back into its case as Madge does the same with the unused arrows. We don't have time to retrieve the arrows from the target. I shove the cases against the wall and grab Madge by the shoulders, pinning her to the opposite wall with my body and swallowing her small squeak of surprise. With my lips. Of course.

Better they think we snuck down here to be alone than for the Mayor's daughter to be teaching the son of a suspected rebel how to shoot.

Madge pushes against me futilely for a moment as I hold her head firmly between my hands. I know the moment she realizes why I'm kissing her when she wraps her arms around me and kisses me back. Good girl, Madge. It shouldn't look like I'm forcing myself on you, or it will get even more complicated.

The voices that were getting steadily louder are suddenly silenced. We keep kissing, ostensibly oblivious to the fact that we have been "discovered." Too wrapped up in each other to notice. Madge threads her hands through my hair and makes a soft moaning sound deep in her throat. If I didn't know for absolute certain that she knows we are being observed, _I'd_ believe our little tableau. In fact, I think I do.

Madge's little moan breaks the spell of silence enthralling our observers. "_Madge!"_ I hear the shocked, reproachful voice of the Mayor.

I step hastily back from Madge and regard our intruders sheepishly. "Mayor Undersee," I say in faux chagrin.

"_Daddy!"_ Madge whispers in apparent shock.

I can hear the buzz of voices beginning behind the Mayor. How much of a scandal will ensue from this, I wonder. Being caught in a fairly compromising position - by the _Mayor_ and several members of the _media_ team - could be bad. The Mayor's daughter and the bad boy from the Seam are the perfect ingredients for a scandalous story as a naughty backdrop for the Games in Twelve.

I meet the piercing eyes of Varvara over the Mayor's shoulder before looking back down at Madge, who has closed the distance between us and taken my hand. We stand together to face her father. Does he have any idea what just happened or does he believe what he sees? He does know about the bow lessons.

"You two meet me in my study in five minutes," he says looking at us pointedly before turning back to the media team and leading them away.

Madge sags against me, trembling slightly.

"Do I have anything to apologize for?" I ask as my arms come around her.

She laughs, "No. That was quick thinking on your part. I'm only embarrassed it took me so long to catch on to what you were doing."

"Well, next time I'll have to leave you in no doubt," I smile, running my hands up and down her back.

"I don't think any of them are wondering why you were down here. I mean…I mean about the _bow._" She clarifies, blushing gorgeously.

I take in her completely disheveled appearance, which in reality owes itself more to our lesson than to our staged kiss. Her skin is flushed, her hair coming loose from its ponytail, falling in soft ringlets framing her face. I seriously doubt many of them were thinking about bows and arrows coming upon the scene, either. The Mayor's pretty daughter pinned to the wall by the big, bad Seam boy. A raw, sensual scene indeed. Wonderfully focuses the minds of others on only one possibility, too. I'm pleased with myself.

Mayor Undersee is not. But, he agrees being caught kissing was better than the alternative. He puts an end to any further archery lessons then and there, deciding Madge has learned _more_ than enough in our time together. I'm…disappointed. I think I could've used some more _practice._

He tells us to act as if nothing has happened. He's spoken to the media team and asked them to keep it quiet for the sake of Madge's reputation. I wonder what kind of threats or promises were made to hush it up. And, whether or not it will work. A kiss is just a kiss, after all.

I'm not invited to stay for dinner tonight, instead returning home to watch the Games with my family and the Everdeens.

~Games Day 16~

Katniss is asleep, Peeta sits by the entrance to the cave, keeping watch. Suddenly she screams. Peeta jumps and rushes to her side. "Katniss! Katniss, wake up!"

"Peeta!" she comes awake.

"Shh, it's all right. I'm here. Go back to sleep," he comforts her as she cuddles into him and quickly goes back to sleep.

Are those the screams from the highlights? Magnified and repeated to make it appear worse than it was? It was only a nightmare. And only Peeta was there to comfort her. Because I'm stuck in rocks. Mining.

Cato and Ginger are both shown sleeping. We're going to get much more screen time of Katniss and bread boy since one of them will always be awake, unlike the others. Clearly more interesting.

As the sun comes up in the arena, Katniss is watching Peeta sleep with a tender look in her eyes. She shakes him awake and he pulls her down to him for a long, lingering kiss.

_Look!_ The sun is up! No more Kissing Games in the cave!

"We're wasting hunting time," Katniss says as she pulls away. There's my practical Catnip.

"I wouldn't call it _wasting,_" he smiles lazily up at her. "So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?" he asks.

"Not us," she answers. "We stuff ourselves to give us staying power."

"Count me in," he says enthusiastically, looking in surprise at the heaping plate of food she hands him. "All this?"

"We'll earn it back today," she promises as they dig in. "I can feel Effie Trinket shuddering at my manners."

"Hey, Effie, watch this!" says Peeta as he licks his plate clean with loud smacking noises. "We miss you, Effie!" he calls out cheerfully.

Katniss covers his mouth with her hand, but she is laughing again. He does that so easily to her. For her. "Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave," she giggles.

How can she laugh about this? He could get them both killed with all his _noise_. Big Blundering Bread Boy. If Cato weren't sleeping over a mile away. But- they don't know that.

He grabs her hand, "What do I care? I've got you to protect me now," he says pulling her into his lap and kissing her. Emphatically. Lots of emphatic kissing going on lately.

"Come on," she says, clearly annoyed, pulling away as he steals yet another kiss. He has no shame.

They pack up and finally leave their little love cave.

"He'll be hunting us by now," says Peeta seriously. "Cato isn't one to wait for his prey to wander by." As _you_ should be doing, Katniss.

"If he's wounded – " she begins.

"It won't matter," Peeta interrupts. "If he can move, he's coming."

"If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds," Katniss suggests.

_No, you should be hunting Cato, not food. You'll come across food along the way. Don't wait for him to come hunting you! He'll be prepared and wearing armor by the time he does._

"Your call. Just tell me what you need me to do," Peeta says agreeably. Clearly, he knows who's in charge.

"Keep an eye out," she instructs. "Stay on the rocks as much as possible, no sense in leaving him tracks to follow. And listen for both of us," Damn, not good. Just how bad is her hearing damaged, anyway?

Can she not hear how loud he is? They're never going to catch _anything_. They walk for a long time, the rocky terrain gradually giving way to the forest floor covered in a soft carpet of pine needles. But, even this doesn't do much to help the racket he is making. He's maddening. Simply _maddening._

Katniss turns to him with an exasperated look.

"What?" he asks, clearly having no clue.

"You've got to move more _quietly_," she says. "Forget about Cato, you're chasing off every rabbit in a ten-mile radius." Well, her hearing isn't completely shot.

"Really? Sorry, I didn't know."

They continue on, but he makes just as much noise as before. "Can you take your boots off?" she finally suggests.

"Here?" he asks in disbelief, looking around in horror. What does he think is going to happen? Pine needles don't bite. I shake my head and laugh in spite of the danger she is in.

"Yes," she says patiently. I know that tone. As if she were talking to Prim. "I will, too. That way we'll both be quieter." I burst out laughing. As if Katniss was making any noise. Then I think, why does she _care_ if he feels bad about making noise?

They've been walking all morning and have nothing to show for it. Predictably.

"Katniss," Peeta speaks. "We need to split up. I know I'm chasing away the game."

"Only because your leg's hurt," she says. Oh, _please._ We both know that isn't the problem. _He's_ the problem.

"I know," Peeta says. "So, why don't you go on? Show me some plants to gather and that way we'll both be useful."

"Not if Cato comes and kills you," she snaps.

He laughs, "Look, I can handle Cato. I fought him before, didn't I?"

She looks at him skeptically, "_What if_ you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I hunted?" she suggests carefully.

"_What_ _if_ you show me what's edible around here and go get us some meat?" he mimics her patronizing tone. Not a total fool. "Just don't go far, in case you need help."

I burst out laughing again, drawing more disapproving looks. As if he would be any _real_ help. A small voice in the back of my mind points out that he did, in fact, save her from Cato at the risk of his own life once already. I rightly ignore the voice.

They split up and Katniss easily shoots several animals while he gathers some roots.

Ginger furtively follows Peeta as he gathers, hiding behind trees and under the brush. Is she going to attack him or is she merely interested in the food?

Prim gasps. "That's Nightlock. Peeta is picking _Nightlock._"

We quietly watch Peeta gathering the most poisonous berries in Panem.

"Berries," Posy pipes up, wanting to be involved.

"Katniss knows better, Prim. They'll be fine," I try to reassure her.

"But, Peeta obviously does not," Prim continues. "If he eats even one, he'll be dead before the berry hits his stomach," she cries. Rory and her mother attempt to comfort her.

"They have an agreement. He'll stick to the plan they have of sharing everything equally and not eating alone," Vick says confidently. Confident in Peeta's honor, not his knowledge.

I feel no such confidence. Almost anyone in Peeta's position would think nothing of sampling a berry or two while gathering. How is Katniss going to react when he dies? Except, I saw earlier that it was Ginger.

"Ginger's going to eat them. I saw it earlier at Madge's," I tell the room, just now remembering that they don't know the cannon from the highlights was for her. I should have told them before going to Madge's, but I was distracted.

Ginger is digging in Peeta's neglected backpack. Why doesn't she just steal the whole thing? Ah, because then they would know she's there. Her entire strategy has been to not be there. Not in anyone's thoughts. Not in anyone's plans. So, not in anyone's sights. Excellent strategy. And, excellent discipline to stick to it no matter the temptation. Glad she's dead.

Katniss suddenly stops hunting. She looks about, obviously worried. Something is off. She whistles, but Peeta is out of range. He does not answer. She races back to where they split up, finding the backpack and plastic covered with roots. She looks around, frantically. Panics.

"Peeta!" she calls, _"Peeta!"_ I cringe listening to her. Foolish, _foolish_ girl! Just how close is Cato? You have _no_ idea! A little voice says to me: watching her panic for_ him_ is reason for _you_ to panic.

Peeta hears her and comes running. She shoots an arrow, barely missing him as he rushes through the bushes, while dropping the berries. He's damn lucky she saw him at the last second, misdirecting her arrow.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be here, not running around in the woods!" she yells. She's losing control. Just hold on for a little longer, Catnip. You're almost home. Just one more kill.

"I found some berries down by the stream," he says, confused by her outburst. Her clear anger.

"I whistled. Why didn't you whistle back?" she snaps. She's visibly shaken. Trembling.

"I didn't hear." He puts his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "The water's too loud, I guess."

"I thought Cato killed you!" she shouts hysterically.

"No, I'm fine," he wraps his arms around her. "Katniss?"

She clings to him for a moment before pushing away, "If two people agree on a signal, they stay in range. Because if one of them doesn't answer, they're in trouble, all right?"

"All right!" he yields.

"All right. Because that's what happened with Rue, and I watched her die!" she blurts, turning away and rummages through the pack. "And you ate without me!" she accuses.

"What? No, I didn't," he protests.

"Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese?" she accuses.

"I don't know what ate the cheese," he says carefully, "but it wasn't me. I've been down by the stream collecting berries. Would you care for some?"

She walks over to pick up the Nightlock berries he dropped when she shot the arrow in his direction. She looks at them consideringly.

"She'll recognize them, right?" Prim asks breathlessly.

"Of course," I say, not bothering to point out again that Ginger is about to die.

The announcers tell us in a voiceover what we already know about the berries.

A close-up of the Nightlock. A cannon fires. The ladies gasp.

Cato looks up at the sky, a slightly perplexed look on his face. No doubt wondering whose cannon just fired. Wondering if Katniss and Peeta are recovered enough to be out hunting Ginger or if one of the three fell to some Gamemaker trap. Everyone's figured out Ginger will only kill one. So as to be the only one…left.

The crowd in Twelve waits on pins and needles for the nation to see. I'm glad we're at home tonight.

Katniss whips around looking at Peeta who, standing a few yards away, raises his eyebrows in question.

The crowd draws breath. I see Mr. Mellark slump in relief on the screen. The cannon blast wasn't for Peeta. I knew it wouldn't be for Katniss, even without Madge's information. We know Nightlock. A hovercraft appears a hundred yards away from them and lifts Ginger's body into the air.

At the sight of the hovercraft so near, Peeta instantly grabs Katniss and propels her towards a tree. "Climb! He'll be here in a second," he commands, preparing to hoist her into the tree. "We'll stand a better chance fighting him from above."

Katniss stops him, putting a hand on his arm. "No, Peeta, she's your kill, not Cato's."

"What? I haven't even seen her since the first day," he questions. "How could _I_ have killed her?"

She holds out the berries in answer.

_Because you're a clueless Townie. A Big Blundering Bread Boy. You don't know how lucky you are to have Katniss there protecting you from your own incompetence,_ I fume. _If it were up to you to provide the food, you'd both be dead and the victor would be Cato._

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter:

Frostlee, DancingDP, The-Mockingjay-Games, Lilac, The Magic of the Night, 4-eva-bookworm, fading denim, x-LiveFantasy-x, odyjha, yellowsunshine, Wonderous- Serendipity, Daniela S. Black, neopsycho9, starrygirlb, Pace1818, GrossGirl18, greenrose15, PerfectTwo, Pinklove21, cutelaxgurl, HabsGirl31 and elei Eve

And _special_ thanks to Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, Iridescent Bookworm, God1801, Aella Leto , xxAlizza, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen for reviewing nearly _every_ chapter. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

An interesting little side note. The Jealousy Games is now longer than The Hunger Games, which is a mere 99,750 words.

The Jealousy Games was 99,317 words at the end of chapter 21.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think.


	24. Chapter 24

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 24**

~Wednesday, Games Day 16, continued~

"I wonder how she found us," says Peeta. "My fault, I guess, if I'm as loud as you say."

Yes. You most certainly are.

"And she's very clever, Peeta. Well, she _was_. Until you outfoxed her."

"Not on purpose. Doesn't seem fair somehow. I mean, we would have both been dead, too, if she hadn't eaten the berries first." He pauses. "No, of course, we wouldn't. You recognized them, didn't you?"

Of course she recognizes them. She's been feeding her family - and mine - for years.

She nods, "We call them Nightlock." Yeah Peeta, by _we_, she means _me_ and her.

Prim and my family breathe a sigh of relief that they won't be eating the Nightlock.

"Even the name sounds deadly. I'm sorry, Katniss. I really thought they were the same ones you'd gathered," Peeta says.

"Don't apologize. It just means we're one step closer to home, right?" Why does she sound as if she's trying to make _him _feel better and not as if _she_ really believes it? They _are_ one step closer.

"I'll get rid of the rest," Peeta gathers up the berries readying to throw them into the woods when Katniss stops him.

"Wait!" she grabs a handful and pours them into a pouch. "If they fooled Foxface, maybe they can fool Cato as well. If he's chasing us or something, we can act like we accidentally drop the pouch and if he eats them …"

Unfortunately, I don't think Cato is stupid enough to fall for it.

"Then hello District Twelve," says Peeta with a small smile.

"That's it," she agrees, securing the pouch to her belt. I don't like the idea of her even _carrying_ those berries around. They're much too dangerous.

"He'll know where we are now," says Peeta. "If he was anywhere nearby and saw the hovercraft, he'll know we killed her and come after us."

Katniss thinks about it for a moment. "Let's make a fire. Right now." She begins gathering brush. Finally! She's doing something proactive.

"Are you ready to face him?" Peeta asks the obvious.

"I'm ready to eat. Better to cook our food while we have the chance. If he knows we're here, he knows. But he also knows there's two of us and probably assumes we were hunting Foxface. That means you've recovered. And the fire means we're not hiding, we're inviting him here. Would you show up?"

Impeccable logic.

"Maybe not," he says.

Peeta somehow manages to start a fire with the damp wood without difficulty and soon they are cooking the fruits of this morning's labors. They keep a careful watch for Cato, but he's watching the plumes of smoke from a wary distance. A long-distance weapon has that effect.

We sit on pins and needles as the hours pass.

They leave the fire burning as they prepare to leave the site of Ginger's death.

"Let's move to higher ground. We can climb a tree for the night," Katniss suggests.

_Yes!_ No more love cave. No more shared sleeping bag! A good night.

"I can't climb like you, Katniss, especially with my leg, and I don't think I could ever fall asleep fifty feet above the ground," Peeta says.

"It's not safe to stay in the open, Peeta," Katniss points out.

"Can't we go back to the cave?" he asks. _No! No no no_. "It's near water and easy to defend."

Katniss sighs. She reaches up to kiss him affectionately. "Sure. Let's go back to the cave," she agrees.

Seriously? All that way? With him making all of that noise? So, this might end today, after all. And what about my sanity? Just thinking about them in that cave – in that sleeping bag…together…all night long.

He grins at her, "Well, that was easy."

Yes. Too easy. What's up with that?

They pile more green branches on the fire to keep it smoking, hoping to mislead Cato as to their whereabouts. But, Cato is no longer interested in the fire. I wonder if he suspects it is a ploy to distract him, as were the fires Rue set when Katniss blew up the Careers' supplies.

It's obvious by the change in the angle of the sun that Katniss and Peeta spend hours hiking back to their cave. What a waste of energy. All because blundering bread boy is afraid to spend the night in a tree. Surely, it couldn't be a ploy of his one-track mind…to get her alone in their love cave?

Peeta nearly falls asleep while he's eating. He had more stamina than that earlier in the Games. His leg looks healed, but obviously he hasn't recovered all of his strength. Katniss tucks him into the sleeping bag and kisses him tenderly on his forehead. Yes, no competition. Not when competing against one so _needy._

Posy's asleep in my lap. Vick is still awake and watching intently, even though it's late enough he could go to bed.

Will Peeta be any help against Cato when the time comes, or will he only be someone she has to protect from Cato? I'm guessing the latter.

The anthem for Day 16 shows only Ginger Todd, District 5. And then there were three.

Vick has been working on adding Ginger to his book tonight. He's crying as he puts the finishing touches on her entry. She is the 1,724th to die in the history of the Games and the 113th in Vick's book.

His reaction to her death is more extreme than I had expected. But, I suppose it is harder for someone like Vick to accept death than for someone like me. Still, he surprises me.

"I know Ginger had to die for Katniss to come home, but I never thought she would die by doing something so _stupid_. I thought I knew her. She was smart. Cunning. Why would she trust that Peeta knew what he was doing? Trust her life to it? If she didn't _know_ they were safe, I didn't think she would eat them." Vick, always questioning.

"Well, I guess since Peeta and Katniss are still alive and obviously much better fed than her, she must have assumed they knew what they were doing," I propose.

He doesn't look convinced. He sits there, shaking his head and reading over her entry in his book. He taps his pencil rapidly as he reads and thinks.

I'd love to know what goes on in his mind. A very inquisitive mind. We share the same DNA.

Finally, he stops and looks at me, "Do you think she could have _known_ they were poisonous?"

"You think she committed suicide? _Why _would she do that_?_ She was in the final four." I look to him for an explanation.

"Clearly, she thought Katniss and Peeta were going to eat the Nightlock. They'd collected it, after all. And, she knew she'd never be able to kill Cato herself. The instantaneous death brought on by Nightlock is better than being chopped to pieces by Cato's sword," he explains, slightly breathless. I can tell my opinion is important to him. I'm a little taken aback by his theory.

"If Katniss and Peeta both ate it, the Capitol might have done something to prevent Ginger from eating it, too, I suppose. To have the final three competitors die en masse without even a confrontation with the victor would be pretty anti-climactic. It could explain why she didn't wait. If she knew." I say in support of his theory. He could be correct, but if Ginger was counting on Katniss to kill Cato she could have revealed herself to Katniss and Peeta and warned them about the berries. Then, she still would have had at least a chance. Especially since Katniss would have a much harder time killing someone who had stepped forward to help her, even if it was unnecessary. Another Seam debt owed. I don't share these thoughts with Vick, however.

Vick looks satisfied that she didn't die out of stupidity. I think he classified her early on as one of the smartest tributes and probably identified with her because of it. But, the thought that Ginger killed herself so close to the end is… _unsettling._ She was so close to winning, being in the final four. Why wouldn't she have risked a confrontation with Cato for the possibility of being the victor?

Regardless if Ginger's death was an accident or not, now Katniss has to defeat only Cato. Powerful, well-trained, smart, _relentless _Cato.

~Thursday, Games Day 17~

Work and school are cancelled in anticipation of the finale. No Highlights will be shown this morning. Mandatory Viewing starts at two, and we'll be in the square for Katniss' victory. I can't allow myself to think otherwise. She will win this.

I have an unexpected morning off to spend with my family. I decide today is the day Posy is going to learn to climb a tree. My mother is planning to spend the day working on laundry, so I volunteer to take the kids out of the house for a few hours. We go to the edge of the Meadow where there is a stand of trees. I spend the morning challenging the boys to climb higher than they have before. Vick and Rory have races up neighboring trees, to see who can climb higher, faster.

Rory is the more physical of the two, but his larger size slows him down as they get further and further up the trees. They may not be part squirrel like Katniss, but both of them could easily out climb this year's Careers. Only Katniss and Rue showed more talent in climbing than my brothers, I'm pleased to note. Being able to survive in an arena is at least as important as being able to fight.

I'll focus on the fighting after the fence is off.

Posy and I watch from the ground as our brothers compete, cheering them on. Eventually, Posy decides she wants to climb a tree, just like her brothers and asks me to show her how. Ha, exactly as I'd hoped. We start off on the lowest branches of a sturdy oak tree, and I explain the importance of choosing where to place her hands and feet. And making sure that three of her four anchors (hands and feet) are in contact with the tree at all times. I practice having her climb from the ground to my shoulder height. When she reaches my shoulders, she climbs onto them and I run a lap around the Meadow with her holding on, giggling.

By late morning, I have discovered that Posy is part squirrel, too. I'm having trouble getting her to stop climbing where I can reach her. She wants to race up to the highest branches with her brothers. Definitely not a safe activity for a four-year-old, part squirrel or not. Definitely not a skill I want her to show our _mother_.

We take a break from climbing, sitting under the warm summer sun. I watch Posy as she picks a posy of wildflowers and dandelions from the Meadow. Rory and Vick are discussing today's impending battle between Katniss and Cato. Peeta barely even gets a thought in their various scenarios. I find myself smirking.

Rory is completely confident in Katniss. Vick is more cautiously optimistic. They ask for my opinion about how much of an edge being a Career gives Cato.

"Both Cato and Katniss are sufficiently skilled with weapons to kill the other. Cato's edge comes from being a Career, as you've pointed out. Careers are conditioned to violence. They enter the arena having already dehumanized their opponents. They don't need to work themselves up to kill someone. They're already there, from the moment the gong sounds. They are predators. Able to use lethal violence in cold blood," I tell them without sugar-coating it.

"But, Katniss knows how to kill, too. She's been doing it for years to survive. The mechanics of the kill are essentially the same as hunting game. The difference is in killing a thinking, armed human being. Fortunately, she already killed the boy from One. So, she knows she can. And, Cato poses a clear and present danger. He's an imminent threat. And, not just to her, but to Peeta. She is at her most ferocious when she's protecting someone...she cares about," I add reluctantly. "If she were up against an unarmed Ginger, it would be hard for her to work herself up to the kill. And, harder to live with after," I explain.

"Her bow has longer range than Cato's spear or his sword. And, he only gets one throw with the spear whereas she has multiple shots with her arrows. The main problem is Cato's armor and that Katniss doesn't know he has it. She'll shoot center mass first. So, she just needs time for a _second_ shot. To the head. She will win." I conclude. And, my brothers are right; Peeta is essentially irrelevant in my calculations as well. If Peeta has to get involved it will be because Katniss screwed up, not getting her second shot off fast enough.

If she doesn't get off her second shot and Cato closes in on her like Clove did, then we're in trouble. Except, this time Peeta will be there to help if she needs it. But, she'll do it. She must.

I look up, surprised to see Madge crossing the Meadow to join us. Posy sees her and rushes to meet her. "Miss Madge! Look!" she shows her the small bouquet she has gathered.

"Oh, what a beautiful posy, Posy!" Madge enthuses, squatting down to admire the flowers. She turns to face me. "I hope you don't mind. Your mother said I might find you here."

"No. I don't mind. We're just taking a break to enjoy the sunshine," I allow.

"Taking a break?" she asks.

The boys get up and race back to the trees. "Rory and Vick are climbing trees."

"Me, too!" Posy pipes up.

Madge looks in surprise at Posy before returning her gaze to me. "You're letting Posy climb trees?" she asks disapprovingly, a hand planted on her hip.

"Of course," I find myself getting defensive. "She needs to know how. Her life may _depend_ on it someday."

"Oh, well…but…she's only _four_, Gale," she pleads. Exactly why I didn't inform my mother about today's plans. "She has _eight_ years before she'll be eligible."

"What about _you,_ Madge? When is the last time you climbed a tree?" I challenge.

She lets out a peal of laughter, "_Me?_ My mother never allowed me to climb trees. Not a suitably ladylike pastime, I'm afraid."

"Posy has eight years before her first reaping. You're sixteen. You have two more reapings before _you_ are safe." I stand and walk close to her.

She looks at me uncertainly. "I thought you said I'd never be going to the Capitol on a tribute train."

"Well, obviously this year proves that _anyone_ can be reaped, now doesn't it? Prim had _one_ damn slip. _One_. Peeta had only five. How did they get picked instead of Katniss with twenty and me with forty-two?"

"I don't know," she says quietly. A gust of wind whips her shimmering blonde hair around her face.

"Who says it couldn't be you next year?" I ask darkly.

"Well, at least I'll have Katniss and Peeta as mentors," she ventures to joke.

I tug on her scarf, pulling her closer. Closing the distance between us. I glance around to make sure no one is close enough to listen in. "Do you think the media team believed what they saw? I think your father did. He did put an end to our archery lessons."

She blushes prettily, remembering the compromising position we were caught in. "I'm not sure. Varvara has been asking me some very pointed questions about you. And about us. And whether you've broken up with Daphne. Probably wondering if she has a chance with you," she laughs.

"Not a single chance. Now that archery lessons are finished, it's time we moved onto something else. Today is the day you learn to climb a tree, Miss Undersee." I slowly unwind the scarf from around her shoulders and drop it to our blanket. "You can't wear this while climbing a tree."

She kicks off her sandals courageously. Her scarf blows away across the meadow and we just stare at each other. I see Posy chasing after the scarf from the corner of my eye.

Madge smiles up at me mischievously, "I thought the archery was merely a cover story. I didn't realize you had decided to _train_ me for the Games."

"I've decided the Career districts have the right idea. Why doesn't _everyone_ train for the Games? Make it a more even playing field. I'm too old now to volunteer if Rory or Vick ever get reaped, but if I train them, at least they stand a chance. And, you need to train, too. You already have the hardest skill to obtain: proficiency with a weapon. Now we need to work on your survival skills. With any luck, you'll never need it. But, with just some basic survival skills, you would be a real contender in the Games."

"I don't think I could ever kill anyone, Gale," she protests.

"If they were armed and trying to kill you, I think you'd be surprised how easy it can be," I say fiercely.

I lead her over to the trees and we begin our lesson. I shadow her up the tree, helping her to find handholds and footholds. Teach her how to test the branches for strength. To look for the branches that angle up, rather than down. She is nervous and trembling as we climb higher into the tree, stopping to rest on a branch twenty feet in the air.

"Oh my! We're so high! I can see the square from here," Madge notices, clinging tightly to the branch we're perched on.

"Ooh, Miss Madge did good!" Posy yells from a neighboring tree.

Damn. How did she ever get up so high? I don't want to scare Posy by pointing out how dangerously high she is.

Madge gasps in concern, "You need to go help her down, Gale. Go, I'm fine," she whispers.

"Okay, you just sit tight and hold on," I say as I quickly descend to the ground. By the time I reach the ground, Vick is halfway up to Posy, who has now realized how high she is.

Posy is clinging tightly to her branch, whimpering softly. Madge is calmly telling her a story, as if sitting twenty feet up in two separate trees is a perfect setting for story time. Vick reaches Posy. I breathe a sigh of relief as I close the distance. The branches on Posy's tree are much smaller and more brittle than the tree she was climbing earlier. As I get within eight feet of them, I've reached the limit for my weight. Even though I could shimmy up the trunk the remaining distance, I wouldn't be able to climb down holding her.

"Vick, can you help her climb down to me?" I ask, carefully keeping my voice neutral.

"Sure thing," he replies.

Posy sees how close I am and immediately begins scrambling down to me. "Pose, slow down!" Vick complains, as he tries to keep pace with her. I hold my breath as Posy scrambles down into my reach. I grab her and hold her close.

Above my head I hear a loud crack. I curl my body over Posy to protect her from the falling limb, looking up to see Vick dangling by one hand as a large branch falls to the ground. "_Hold on_, Vick! Just let me get Posy down." I say as I climb down as fast as I dare.

"_Hurry!_ I'm slipping!" Vick yells. _"Gale!"_

As I get low enough to drop Posy into Rory's waiting arms, I hear a scream as Vick loses his grip. He crashes through several smaller branches before landing hard on a large branch, grabbing on to stop his fall. I climb back up to him lightning fast. I think about being on the next branch up and I'm already there thinking about the next.

"Vick! Are you hurt?" I ask, checking him over. Making sure he isn't in danger of falling any further. When he doesn't answer immediately, I am sure he is.

"I - I don't know," he finally stammers, not moving.

I glance over to the branch where Madge should be sitting, wondering how I'm going to get them both down, when I realize she's standing with Rory at the base of the tree. Relieved that I need only concern myself with Vick, I shift focus back on him. He's lying prone on the branch, his head facing away from me.

"Can you sit up?" I ask him.

He tries to push himself up, grunting in pain as I help him.

"I hurt my arm. I can't... move it," he says between clenched teeth. He closes his eyes tightly, swaying, but I've got a good grip on him.

"Where does it hurt?" I probe his arm carefully. Climbing down with a sprained or broken arm will be awkward. Especially if he's dizzy or disoriented. "Did you hit your head?"

"My shoulder," he gasps.

"Okay. Don't try to move it. I'll get you down. You may have saved Posy's life, you know. She should never have been up so high on her own. I should have been keeping a better eye on her. I'm proud of you for looking out for her. Do you think you could climb onto my back and hold on with your good arm?" It's a good thing he isn't as big as Rory or this would be a lot harder.

"I can do it," he assures me.

He climbs onto my back and I slowly climb down to the ground. I am relieved to have everyone safely (more or less) on solid ground.

Madge fashions a sling out of her scarf and gently fits it over Vick's shoulder, supporting his arm. "We should take him to the doctor."

"We'll take him to Mrs. Everdeen. She can handle this," I inform her. Doctors are for life and death emergencies, and usually not even then. I look up in the sky. It's about noon. "We have about two hours before we have to be in the square."

I notice Rory is angry with me, roughly getting between me and Madge. He hands Posy to me. "I'll take care of Vick." He turns to Madge, "There's no reason for you to hang around. We're going to _Katniss' _house. Her mother will patch Vick up. Come on Gale. She should take a look at Posy, too."

"There's no reason to be rude, Rory," I chastise him.

"No. It's okay. I have to check on my mother before the viewing, anyway. I'll see you later." Madge smiles at me in understanding as she leaves.

"It's not Madge's fault, Rory." He just stares at me stonily as we approach the Everdeens', who, fortunately live right near the Meadow.

I'm hoping Mrs. Everdeen is up to treating Vick today. She's been very unsteady these past few weeks. And, today Katniss will either be dead or a victor.

Prim answers the door, quickly assesses the situation and switches into professional caretaker mode. Immediately. The distraction proves beneficial for both of the Everdeens. They thrive most when they are helping heal others. Mrs. Everdeen diagnoses Vick's shoulder as dislocated, not broken. Thankfully.

She lays him on a table and has me hold him steady while she rotates his arm until it slides back into place. I am once again amazed. How do they know to do these things? She finishes off by refashioning Madge's scarf into a more professional sling and immobilizing his arm once again. Vick is wiped out from the pain, but he insists he feels much better. I'm impressed that he never cried the whole time. I make sure to tell him how proud I am of him.

I send Rory back home to tell Mom about Vick's shoulder and to let her know we'll meet her in the square at two. The fact that Vick was rescuing Posy when it happened will earn him praise and me censure, I'm certain. But, Vick's shoulder will be as good as new in a couple of weeks and Posy didn't get hurt, so all is well. Training will have to be done with more care in the future. Madge will have to be trained separately, of course.

~Mandatory Viewing in the square~

~Thursday, Games Day 17~

When my mother arrives in the square she has a few choice words about this morning's training fiasco, but I'm spared the worst of it because of the crowd and the looming battle. Somehow, teaching Posy to climb trees pales in significance next to the anticipation of what is soon to come.

We see the arena being drained of all sources of water other than the lake in preparation of the finale.

Katniss sits watching as dawn breaks before waking Peeta.

"I slept the whole night. That's not fair, Katniss, you should have woken me," Peeta admonishes her.

Katniss burrows down into the sleeping bag, "I'll sleep now. Wake me if anything interesting happens."

Cato is on the hunt in the woods, but he isn't anywhere near them.

Katniss sleeps until late afternoon, "Any sign of our friend?" she asks when she awakes.

Peeta shakes his head. "No, he's keeping a disturbingly low profile."

"How long do you think we'll have before the Gamemakers drive us together?" she asks.

"Well, Foxface died almost a day ago, so there's been plenty of time for the audience to place bets and get bored. I guess it could happen at any moment," Peeta estimates.

An impressive understanding of how Gamemakers think.

"Yeah, I have a feeling today's the day," Katniss says, sitting up and stretching. "I wonder how they'll do it?"

You should be out hunting for _him_, Katniss! Do you want the Gamemakers to send a wall of fire or a pack of mutts after you to herd you towards Cato? What are you _waiting_ for? You've seen fifteen of these Games. You know how it works. Move or they'll move _you_.

"Well, until they do, no sense in wasting a hunting day. But, we should probably eat as much as we can hold just in case we run into trouble," she says. Yes, very practical.

They eat and pack up, preparing to leave the cave for good. As much as I've hated watching them in the cave and as desperately as I want this to end, the reality that this is the day hits me hard. It ends today. Today my Catnip kills Cato. Or dies.

And then we find out if they were honest about allowing _two_ victors.

They walk down to the stream and realize it has been drained. They discuss the possibilities and deduce what we viewers already know.

"You're right. They're driving us to the lake," she says. "Do you want to go straightaway or wait until the water's tapped out?"

"Let's go now, while we've had food and rest. Let's just end this thing," Peeta decides.

Yes! Finally, they are doing something smart. _You_ go and wait for the Gamemakers to herd _Cato_. Towards you.

Peeta wraps his arms around Katniss, "Two against one. Should be a piece of cake," the baker says. It would be if _I_ were Katniss' partner, instead of you. You had better not get her killed.

"Next time we eat, it will be in the Capitol," Katniss answers.

"You bet it will," he agrees.

They stand there locked in each other's embrace for a while before breaking apart and heading for the lake. Peeta's loud footfalls send rodents scurrying and birds flying. Katniss seems remarkably unconcerned. She prefers Cato find her in the woods than at the Cornucopia. When they finally do reach the Cornucopia in the early evening, there is no sign of him.

"We don't want to fight him after dark. There's only one pair of glasses," Katniss says.

"Maybe that's what he's waiting for. What do you want to do? Go back to the cave?" No, no. Not the cave again. The Gamemakers would never allow you to get away with that.

"Either that or find a tree. But, let's give him another half hour or so. Then we'll take cover," she decides. She's telling the Gamemakers to get Cato there in the next thirty minutes! I laugh to myself. Pretty clever Catnip. I'll take one order of Career Tribute…over easy, please.

And, voila, Cato's suddenly being hounded by mutts, herding him towards the lake where Katniss and Peeta await. Fed, hydrated and waiting. They are sitting by the lake a good distance from the tree line. All she needs is time for two shots. The center mass shot… which won't penetrate, followed by the head shot… which will.

Katniss opens her mouth and sings a simple four-note melody. The birds in the arena pause their songs to listen. Then one after another pick up the tune and pass it along until the whole arena comes alive with her song.

"Rue's melody," Vick says quietly. I smile at him. He's been very quiet since Mrs. Everdeen repositioned his arm.

"Just like your father," Peeta smiles at Katniss.

Prim is chewing her fingernails, which I've never seen her do. Mrs. Everdeen is staring, transfixed at Katniss' singing.

"That's Rue's song," Katniss says, fingering Madge's mockingjay pin. "I think they remember it."

Katniss closes her eyes, listening to the beautiful music. Peeta watches her with a look of pure adoration.

The split screens showing their peaceful scene in contrast to Cato fighting off a pack of mutts is discordant. If only the mutts would finish him off, but they won't. Their job is merely to maneuver him into confrontation with Katniss.

The mockingjays' melody is disrupted as Cato is chased in their direction.

Katniss and Peeta jump to their feet, preparing for the battle. Katniss needs to aim for his head because of the armor, but she will aim for center mass instead. She needs enough time to shoot twice. Once at center mass, which won't work. A second after she figures out he has body armor. Will she have enough time? Before the mutts and Cato reach them? He's a fast runner.

Cato smashes through the trees, panting and sweating. Weaponless! He dropped his spear in his flight! And fright.

Katniss takes careful aim and shoots. She hits dead center, center mass. A kill shot, except it bounces off.

"He's got some kind of body armor!" she shouts to Peeta as Cato closes in.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Thanks again to all of my wonderful reviewers! I really appreciate each and every one of you for taking the time to let me know what you think.


	25. Chapter 25

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'. That includes most of the dialog spoken by Katniss and Peeta, of course. I did expand on Peeta's pleading to Katniss when she zoned out in the book. There is no way Gale is missing any of this, after all.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 25**

~Thursday, Games Day 17~

I'm screaming on the inside as Katniss prepares to face Cato. What I wouldn't give to be the one standing there beside her right now! I should _be_ there! Cato wouldn't have a chance against _us._

They brace for battle as Cato reaches them. But, he runs right through them without engaging!

They turn towards the woods from where Cato emerged and see the pack of wolf mutts bearing down on them. They immediately turn and run after Cato, the mutts closing ground behind them fast.

Shoot! Shoot _Cato!_ Shoot him now, before the mutts reach you! It will end the attack!

She doesn't hear me, running blindly from the mutts instead; following Cato to the Cornucopia. Peeta, his leg still not fully healed, trails behind. Katniss reaches the horn and turns back to see Peeta being run to ground by the mutts. _Climb, Katniss! Climb!_ She shoots one, but there are twenty more. She doesn't have enough arrows to kill them all.

"Go, Katniss! Go!" Peeta yells when she doesn't immediately begin climbing.

She nods and finally begins climbing.

Cato lies atop the Cornucopia, gasping for breath and gagging over the edge. _Shoot him! He's leaning over the edge! _

She nocks an arrow, setting her sight on Cato when suddenly Peeta cries out. She turns and shoots her arrow at the mutt on his heels instead of Cato. If you had killed Cato, the Gamemakers would have called off the mutts, you know Katniss.

"Climb!" she yells and Peeta does, reaching her side with some help. They're halfway up the horn, but not out of mutt range as Cato is.

Cato is coughing up blood, "Can they climb it?" he asks them, clearly more concerned with the mutts than his District Twelve opponents at the moment.

The mutts huddle at the base of the Cornucopia, standing on their hind legs, giving them an eerily human quality. The camera zooms in on one of the mutts. They're wearing collars. Like pets. I've never seen mutts like them before. Novel idea. As soon as these Games are over, the Capitolites are probably going to have miniature versions walking on leashes around the City Circle.

Vick gasps, looking suddenly pale. I look to him in concern. Is he in pain? Is he going to be sick? This is almost certain to get much worse before it's over.

"That red one…with the five on its collar. It…it looks like Ginger," he finally spits out.

I whip around to the screens, taking stock of the mutts. They're a variety of colors, ranging from the red one Vick pointed out to blonde and black and every shade in-between. And, the collars do have tags with the district numbers on them.

"They're just mutts, Vick. They're just designed to look like the tributes to make them more scary," I tell him, swallowing the bile in my throat. I hope they are only designed to _resemble_ the dead tributes. I wouldn't put anything past the Capitol, though.

"But…but the _eyes_…" he whispers.

I put my hand comfortingly on his leg. Sometimes I almost wish he wasn't quite so observant. I don't want to consider the possibilities any longer.

The mutts are jumping at the Cornucopia, trying to reach Peeta and Katniss, but they don't appear able to climb it outright. Katniss shoots several more. _Save some of those arrows for the real opponent!_ They're screwed if it comes down to _unarmed_ combat.

Katniss shrieks as the Glimmer mutt lands near them, shooting it in the throat. I've never heard her sound so… _girly_. So grossed out making a kill.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks. Did he notice her strange reaction?

"It's her!" she chokes out. Ah, she's noticed the resemblance, too.

"Who?" Peeta asks.

She doesn't speak, only staring in mounting horror at the pack. Get it together, Katniss. It's all coming down to this.

"What is it, Katniss?" Peeta shakes her shoulder in an attempt to get her to focus.

She _needs_ to focus on killing Cato. Not on the mutts.

"It's them. It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and…all of the other tributes," she says.

Peeta gasps as he recognizes the truth. "What did they do to them? You don't think…those could be their real eyes?"

Vick falls out of his chair and vomits on the ground at my feet. The crowd behind us is murmuring about Peeta's observation. Everyone is upset about the possibility of the mutts actually _being_ the dead tributes. Leave the dead well enough alone. If the crowd in Twelve is so upset, I can only imagine the outrage in the other districts, where it is _their_ tributes who are represented by the mutts. They are watching a part of their tributes - their children – turned into mutations and dying again. Truly cruel.

The mutts have started another attack, launching themselves at the Cornucopia. Peeta cries out as one latches viciously onto his leg, nearly pulling him _and_ Katniss over the side. Wouldn't the Gamemakers be thrilled?

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" Katniss shouts.

Peeta stabs the mutt (who, by the number Two on the collar, I know can only be Clove) and she releases her hold on his leg, allowing Katniss to pull him back up. His new leg wound is bleeding heavily, coating the side of the golden horn scarlet red. They crawl up to the top of the Cornucopia where Cato waits, still not back on his feet.

_Look out for Cato, Katniss!_ Cato staggers to his feet as the crowd in Twelve goes berserk yelling warnings ... unheeded.

Katniss shoots the Thresh mutt as Cato reaches down and grabs Peeta, jerking him away from her. He's got Peeta in a choke-hold, cutting off his air. Blood still flows freely from Peeta's calf, covering the surface in a slippery pool of blood.

Katniss swiftly nocks another arrow, aiming it at Cato's head. That's it. Take him out so you can come home, Catnip. Finally.

Cato just laughs, sure he has this won. "Shoot me and he goes down with me," he taunts.

He's using Peeta as a shield and standing so close to the lip if he falls, they both fall. Katniss is overcome with indecision.

_Shoot Katniss! Shoot!_

Peeta's lips are turning blue, but he's still struggling against the bigger boy. She's got to make a decision. Fast. Once Peeta loses consciousness Cato will use his body as a weapon. Cato smiles triumphantly. He senses her weakness. Like the predator he is.

Peeta is mouthing _shoot_ to Katniss. He raises his hand, dripping with blood and paints an X on the back of Cato's hand. Katniss shifts and shoots immediately, hitting Cato on the mark.

Cato screams in pain and surprise, loosening his grip.

Peeta is prepared. As soon as Cato's grip loosens, Peeta slams his body back against Cato, turning and punching him. Katniss lunges for Peeta, grabbing hold of him just as Cato slips off the edge of the blood-soaked horn, plummeting to the ground. The mutts are all over him as soon as he hits.

A cheer goes up in Twelve as their last opponent falls. Everyone is talking at once. Hugging. High fiving.

"Did they win?" Prim asks desperately.

"Not yet. They haven't fired the cannon," I say, without taking my eyes from the screens. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as if I was in the arena with them.

The crowd goes tense and silent as word spreads through the crowd. No cannon.

The fall didn't kill him. The mutts will have to finish him off. But, he's wearing full body armor. They'll have to go for the head.

Katniss and Peeta cling to each other atop the golden Cornucopia, waiting for the cannon. Waiting for their victory.

Cato pulls a long knife from somewhere in his clothes and takes on the mutt pack. He's trying to work his way around to the tail of the horn, but he's overpowered. I hope the mutts aren't smart enough to realize they could get to Katniss by way of the tail.

The mutts drag Cato into the Cornucopia as the sun sets.

Night falls. The anthem plays. Still no cannon. No deaths for Day 17.

Katniss and Peeta huddle together listening to the moans and screams from within the Cornucopia as night deepens and an arctic chill descends on the arena. Waiting for the sound that will set them free.

The crowd sits in an expectant hush. An unnatural silence falls over the square as we await Cato's inevitable death.

I wonder who will get credited with his kill. Probably Peeta, as he's the one who shoved Cato over the edge, feeding him to the mutts. That makes four kills for Peeta, if you count Ginger: the boy from Seven, the boy from Four, Ginger and Cato. Katniss has three: Glimmer and Marina with the tracker jackers and Marvel. They might both get credited with Cato's death. No matter how you split it up, they killed seven between them. Seven. I wonder how people will think of them now when they return.

At this point, I begin to consider the possibilities of what will happen when Cato's cannon fires. Will the Capitol allow two Victors or will they force Katniss to kill Peeta? Because, I'm not so sure she would ever recover from that.

Maybe it would be better if he bleeds to death before the mutts finish off Cato. He might, but then, I've counted him out before and been proven wrong. He has an unbelievable constitution. Anyone else would be dead after what he's been through. And then we'd never find out if the Capitol really intended to honor the rule change. Don't want that. Either we have two returned to us or the Capitol just watered a nascent rebellion…with the blood of one too many tributes.

They're shivering atop the horn. Katniss removes her jacket and her shirt, using the shirt and her last remaining arrow to make a tourniquet before pulling her jacket back on.

Mrs. Everdeen and Prim deal with the suspense by discussing the merits of the tourniquet and Katniss' application of it. Prim's worried about his leg. Her mother points out that Peeta will bleed out without it if he doesn't receive medical treatment very soon.

Katniss lies down beside Peeta and tells him not to sleep.

"Are you cold?" he asks, unzipping his jacket and fastening it around her. He's bleeding to death and his thoughts are to keep her warm? Or to spend his last moments close to her? Is this the care a one-track mind offers? I feel particularly cold-blooded.

"Cato may win this thing yet," she whispers.

"Don't you believe it," he says shivering, pulling up her hood and tucking her head close to his chest.

It is unbelievably hot and muggy in District Twelve tonight. Watching them freezing in the arena adds to a surreal affect.

"The cold temperature might actually be good for Peeta. Hypothermia slows down the metabolism," Mrs. Everdeen points out, clinically. Not cold-blooded, but I see its usefulness.

I glance over at the Mellarks, catching Mr. Mellark's eye. He clearly heard. I'm sure he is clinging to the hope she is right as hard as Katniss and Peeta are clinging to the Cornucopia.

We sit here all night, watching Katniss and Peeta freeze atop the frozen horn. Listening to Cato moaning, begging and whimpering in pain.

Vick sits to my left, nodding off now and again as the hours pass. Madge sits to my right, silent and alert. Rory sits a few seats over from Vick, between our mother and Prim. He hasn't spoken to me since we reached the Everdeens to have Vick's shoulder set. Every time I see him looking in my direction I can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. If being mad at me helps to distract him from what is going on on-screen, then it's okay with me. I'll deal with him once I know Katniss is safe.

It's been _hours_. I suspect many people have fallen asleep, or nearly. The Peacekeepers make the rounds, rousing people as needed. I won't sleep. I can't look away. Not even for a moment.

"Why don't they just kill him?" Katniss finally asks, jolting some people awake.

"You know why," Peeta says calmly.

Because the crowd is riveted. Everyone in Panem is glued to their seats. This is one of the longest finales in the history of the Games. It will be talked about for ages.

~Friday, Games Day 18~

Peeta repeatedly dozes off and Katniss repeatedly awakens him. She shouts his name. "Peeta! Peeta!" Each cry like her arrow to my heart. She _refuses_ to let him die.

The sun rises in Twelve and still we wait. Even the Peacekeepers look about to fall asleep.

Peeta talks quietly to Katniss about the moon.

Finally, the sun rises in the arena.

In the pale light of the rising sun, we can see just how pale Peeta is. Mrs. Everdeen looks grim, shaking her head.

I get up out of my seat, pacing up and down outside the rows of chairs. I can't sit still any longer. I have to _do_ something. Fortunately, the Peacekeepers don't seem to mind people walking about, stretching their legs. At least it means they are awake.

"I think he's closer now, Katniss. Can you shoot him?" Peeta finally asks.

"My last arrow's in your tourniquet," she says in distress.

"Make it count," Peeta says, unzipping his jacket to free her.

She crawls to the edge of the horn, hanging over the edge. Peeta is gripping her legs for support. I'm gripping the edge of Madge's chair. Katniss searches the dim interior until she finds her target. She deftly fires her final arrow into Cato's skull.

The crowd is numb from the long night. Not a single cheer.

Peeta pulls her back up, enfolding her into his arms. "Did you get him?" Peeta whispers.

The cannon fires in answer.

"Then we won, Katniss," he says weakly, leaning his forehead into hers.

At that, the crowd suddenly reacts, jumping to their feet and cheering. The announcers are excitedly talking about the amazing shot. A shot that _only_ Katniss could have made; frozen, and hanging _upside down_ off the edge of the Cornucopia.

We stay frozen in the front row, waiting nervously for the official proclamation of victory. I won't believe it until I hear it. And see it. Not until she has been evacuated from the arena.

A hole opens in the plain and the mutts disappear into it.

Still we wait. For the trumpets of victory. For a hovercraft to take Cato's remains. For anything. But nothing happens.

The silence in the arena is so loud; it's as if the ghosts of every dead tribute are screaming from their graves.

Even the mockingjays do not sing.

An icy fear seizes my gut. Something is wrong. The victor doesn't have to move away from the final kill of the Games. Which means, Cato _wasn't_ the final kill. So, the victor hasn't been decided, yet.

I shake in rage. Seething. I _knew_ it! Liars. Murders. Madge covers my hand with her own, squeezing hard.

"Hey!" Katniss shouts into the air. "What's going on?"

"Maybe it's the body. Maybe we have to move away from it," suggests Peeta.

"Okay. Think you could make it to the lake?" she asks.

"Think I better try," says Peeta.

They inch down the horn, falling the last few feet. She helps him limp over to the lake, where they drink and wait for the hovercraft.

They're going to revoke the rule. And, Katniss doesn't have any more arrows. Even if Peeta didn't still have his knife, she's no match for him hand to hand. Even in his weakened state, it wouldn't take much. For him to kill her.

I think back to the one conversation I have ever had with Peeta Mellark. In the Justice building following the reaping.

_"Mellark, If you kill her, or contribute her to dying and you manage to make it back here, you will wish some Capitol mutt had ripped you limb from limb before I am done with you," I had warned him grimly._

Little did I realize how prophetic those words would turn out to be.

"_You really have __no idea-__ if you believe I could ever hurt Katniss," he had said. _

_"She can __win__," I told him fiercely._

_"God, I hope so," he had answered._

He won't sacrifice himself to save her. It's never happened in the whole history of the Games. No one has ever been that noble. He wanted her to win because he never thought he would make it this far. He never expected it to come down to the two of them. One part of my mind automatically begins to plot my revenge upon Mellark. How. When. Where. But not why. I know why.

A mockingjay whistles, startling me back to the present. The hovercraft appears and clears away Cato's body.

"What are they waiting for?" Peeta asks weakly. He's fading.

_For you to die. Or for you to kill her. Whichever comes first._

"I don't know," Katniss says as she retrieves one of her arrows from the ground. Yes! She has an arrow. That's all she needs. The only way she can still win this. She doesn't know she's going to need it. Just an old hunting habit that just may save her life.

Claudius Templesmith's voice booms over the speakers, "Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games." _Contestants_. He said _contestants,_ not _victors_. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The crowd cries out in emotional pain. In distress. In disbelief. In _outrage. _

Prim nearly faints in disbelief, cowering into Rory's shoulder.

Freaking Capitol! I think I hate the Capitol most when it dangles hope before us and then whisks it away. Even though I never _really_ believed it, even I had a sliver of hope they would honor it. If only because of the dangerous repercussions possible from not honoring it. Our only real hope is rebellion.

Katniss has the bow. And an arrow. She can't miss at this distance. She'll have to kill him. She'll do it. For Prim, right?

The thought crosses my mind, it is better for me if Peeta dies instead of them both coming home. Katniss will get over it, eventually. And she'll come back to me. I almost hate myself for even thinking this. Almost.

Katniss and Peeta stare at each other in stunned disbelief.

Peeta recovers first, struggling to his feet, "If you think about it, it's not that surprising," he says softly. He walks towards Katniss, slowly pulling his knife from his belt.

I'll kill the bastard if he kills her. He won't live five minutes after he steps off the train.

I won't feel hatred when I kill you, Mellark. Just an aching emptiness that I will try to fill with…justice. For love will have been extinguished…my heart dead. An empty vessel, refilling itself with revenge. I will fuel myself with it. Refueling by way of destruction. I will burn the Capitol to the ground. When I kill Snow, I will be consumed by the hatred. First justice in Twelve…and then a life of revenge. For Katniss. For little Rue. For _all_ of the others.

All of Panem is riveted to the scene. The showdown between the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve. Exactly as the Gamemakers intended. Surely the most emotional end ever to a Games.

Except, they are _not_ the star-crossed lovers. _Katniss and I_ are the star-crossed lovers. It's just that nobody knows that. Including Katniss. Anyway, this is all just an act. A show. She'll kill him. To come home to Prim. To me.

Peeta tosses the knife over his shoulder into the lake. The crowd goes silent again.

Katniss nocks an arrow and points it at Peeta as the knife makes a small splash. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. Did he think she wouldn't kill him? She'll do anything to come home to Prim. The only person she truly loves. Even if it destroys her.

Katniss throws her bow to the ground and steps back, her face flushed. What is she doing? _Pick it up, Katniss!_ She looks…embarrassed? That she nearly shot him? Or that she thought he was going to try to kill her?

_Unbelievable._ This has never been done before. This Seventy-fourth Hunger Games is completely unique. Because of Peeta. Because of Katniss. Refusing to kill each other.

"No," Peeta says. "Do it," he limps towards her, picking up the discarded bow and arrow, forcing them back into her hands. He's really serious. He's _not_ going to kill her. He was telling the truth. He cannot hurt her. This is what he meant: _You have no idea if you believe I could ever hurt Katniss._

"I can't," she says. "I won't."

"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he pleads.

He's right. They will send the mutts back out if necessary. Don't let the Capitol decide who wins, Katniss. They'll pick _Peeta_. The one who _isn't_ acting. The heartbroken, selfless boy that every girl in the Capitol is probably in love with. Not the Girl on Fire. Not the girl who shrouded Rue in flowers. The girl who seems so...angry. So _rebellious_.

"Then _you_ shoot _me_," she yells, shoving the bow at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!"

What are you _doing_, Katniss? You should have seen this coming. You knew you were going to have to kill people to come home. Peeta was nobody to you. And, you promised Prim. I made sure of it.

Prim is crying hysterically. Posy's been woken by the noise and is crying, too. Probably because Prim is crying. I sweep my eyes around. My mother, Mrs. Everdeen and Madge are crying, too. _All _of the women are crying. Except for Mrs. Mellark. She sits there stonefaced.

Hmm, most of the women of Panem are crying, I think. The Capitol has gone too far. Opportunity in that. To ponder later.

"You know I can't," Peeta says, tossing the bow aside. "Fine, I'll go first anyway." He says, tearing off the remains of his bandage.

"No, you can't kill yourself," she pleads. She drops to her knees and desperately tries to repair it.

_Katniss, please. Just end it. For all of us._

"Katniss, it's what I want," he says softly. And, I believe him. He didn't even know her a month ago. But, he doesn't want to live without her. Extraordinary.

"You're not leaving me here alone," she declares.

Hey, you won't be alone. You have Prim. Me.

"Listen," he says, pulling her to her feet. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can be only one of us. Please, take it. For me. _I love you_, Katniss. Without you, I don't have a life. You have people at home who need you. Who love you. Think about Prim. She needs you to come home. You promised her you would win."

Katniss suddenly pulls the pouch holding the Nightlock berries from her belt.

Prim gives a muffled scream. _"No!"_

No! She wouldn't! She's not going to kill herself. Not for him.

Peeta grabs her wrist, stopping her. "No, I won't let you," he says with determination.

She whispers to him as they stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. I wish I knew what she was saying. What is going through her mind. Finally, he releases her wrist. She opens the pouch. Taking his hand she pours some berries into it before filling her own.

What is she doing? What are they doing? The Capitol needs a victor, so she's saying it's both of them or nobody? Bold, but crazy. They will never let her get away with it.

"On the count of three?" she says.

Peeta leans down to kiss her goodbye. "The count of three," he says with a sad smile as his hand strokes her braid.

I never kissed her goodbye. I never kissed her at all.

They stand; their backs pressed together, their empty hands locked tight.

All or nothing.

Two futures flash before my eyes. A future where there is no Katniss. And a future where Katniss is with Peeta. She just killed any possibility of a future for us with those Nightlock berries. There are now only the two possibilities. Them together or them dead. Would it be easier if she just died, rather than to see her with him? No. No, I want what is best for her. But, what is best for her? To be with Peeta? Or to be with me?

"Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says.

Does she really believe she can't survive without him?

They both hold out their hands, full of death.

Two victors or no victor. Katniss _and_ Peeta or no Katniss.

I thought my heart had been ripped out already, but the pain where my heart should be proves me wrong. The reality of her linking her survival to his feels…like a personal betrayal.

The Capitol is going to kill one of them. Or both of them. Or let them kill themselves. They'll never reward such a publically rebellious act by letting them both win. They can't.

They begin counting. "One."

She isn't.

"Two."

They'll _both_ die. How is _this_ a solution? How is both of them dying better than one of them living?

"Three!"

I am nearly brought to my knees as they pop the berries into their mouths.

Trumpets blare. Did someone win? Who?_ Who won?_ They are _both_ still standing.

Claudius Templesmith shouts over the trumpets. "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – the tributes of District Twelve!"

They spew the berries from their mouths.

She's she's coming home…with _him_.

Well then. It's over. In more ways than one. I am numb with joy and despair.

Katniss _and_ Peeta. Star-crossed lovers of District Twelve_. Co-victors_ of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games.

What if my name had been called instead of Peeta's? What if I had volunteered to take his place to protect her? Would we have still been the star-crossed lovers? It wouldn't have been an act on either side. Would they have allowed _us_ to both live? What if we had been standing there, thinking one of us had to die? What if…what if… A thousand unanswerable questions threaten to consume me.

The crowd's thunderous cheers overwhelm me as Madge's whisper floats up to me, "They won. They're really coming home, Gale."

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers for the last chapter!

Beth, Flaming Arrows, thglover123, Helen, Thehungergames, Taynna, HabsGirl31, neopsycho9, 4-eva-bookworm, KAtara97, yellowsunshine, PerfectTwo, SrpiaEahn, Ittybit and Pinklove21

And a _special_ thanks to the reviewers who have reviewed all or nearly all of the chapters so far:

Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, Iridescent Bookworm, God1801, EStrunk, Animic, Gales Lover and Kaitleen. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

Today is my birthday and this chapter is my present to all of you. What would I like for my birthday? Reviews! Especially from some of the 300+ people who have favorited or alerted to this story without taking the time to leave a review so far. Please just take a minute to say "hi" before we're done.

Only two chapters left, but a lot is going to happen in District Twelve while Katniss and Peeta are recovering and preparing for the interview and victors ceremony!


	26. Chapter 26

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 26**

~Friday, Games Day 18~

They quickly spew the berries from their mouths. They're alive. She's alive! She's coming home. A victor.

Peeta grabs Katniss and pulls her towards the lake where they wash their mouths out with water before collapsing in each other's arms. They're alive. Nightlock kills instantly. If they were going to die, they'd be dead already.

"You didn't swallow any?" she demands, placing her hands on his face.

He shakes his head. "You?"

"Guess I'd be dead by now if I did," she says, smiling.

The crowd erupts into wild cheers, both in Twelve and the Capitol, drowning out the rest of their conversation.

The hovercraft finally materializes overhead, dropping two ladders to retrieve two victors. Two victors. _Two._ How is that even possible? However did Katniss manage that? She's outmaneuvered the Capitol! How? _Why?_ Because she couldn't live without _him_? She would rather be dead than come home without Mellark? My mind reels in shock at the implications.

Gripping each other tightly, they hobble over to the ladders. They take hold of the same ladder and are frozen, lifted, and then taken together from the arena. Together.

She did it. She's alive. She's out of the arena. She's really coming home.

The crowd is delirious with excitement. Despite the overwhelming fatigue of having been up for more than twenty-four hours, the outpouring of emotion is torrential. Cheering. Hugging. Crying.

Prim is dancing and screaming in excitement, "They won! _They won!_ _They won!_ She's coming home! Katniss is coming _home!_" She's laughing and crying at the same time.

Rory picks her up and spins her around, laughing.

Mrs. Everdeen is crying into my mother's arms.

Vick is sitting up, intently watching the screens as they show shots of crowd reactions around the country. He looks to me, "Gale, they let them _both_ win. That's never happened before," he says, awed.

Posy launches herself from Madge's arms to mine. "Did Katniss win _now?" _she says in the middle of a huge yawn.

I smile down into her sleepy eyes, "Yes, Posy. Katniss won. Katniss won the Hunger Games," my voice cracks. I pull her close, tucking her into my chest.

I look beyond her to Madge, who is smiling brightly through tears. Suddenly, I'm being hugged by Posy, Vick and Madge all at once.

After minutes of celebrating with my family and Katniss' family, I turn to find Mr. Mellark pulling me into an awkward hug. "They're coming home, Gale. They did it." Then he is suddenly moving past me to talk with Mrs. Everdeen and Prim. I see Mrs. Mellark eyeing the scene with open disapproval. Her son just won the Hunger Games. You'd think, under the circumstances, she could let her husband talk to his old flame without such a sour look on her face. I've never seen her smile, I realize.

School and work in Twelve are cancelled for Friday and Saturday. I'd imagine a lot of cancellations for Friday in all of the districts as well, given that the entire population was up most the night watching the finale. There will be a celebration in Twelve's square Saturday night.

I'm in a bit of a daze as we walk home. The past month of work, worry, nightmares and sleeplessness has taken its toll. I'm emotionally exhausted. I'm guaranteed to sleep like a rock for the next day or so. There is nothing of significance to worry about for the first time in weeks. She's coming home. Alive. Not in a box. The rest I will deal with once she's here.

I give Vick a piggyback ride. Mom carries Posy, who is already fast asleep. Mrs. Everdeen walks quietly on their far side, watching Prim with a serene smile. Rory and Prim walk ahead, with Prim skipping, twirling and laughing. Positively giddy with relief. The very picture of innocence and joy. Considering the numbing horror of what we have just finished watching, it is amazing how untouched she is.

Katniss made the right decision volunteering for Prim. She wouldn't have lasted an hour in the arena.

Saturday

I sleep a deep, dreamless sleep until early Saturday morning, waking feeling more refreshed than I have since the Reaping. Eighteen hours of sleep will do that, I guess. The fence is off for the first time since the Games began and I make my way eagerly to the woods. A great day!

I breathe deeply and enjoy the quiet of our woods. Everything here reminds me of Katniss: the smell of the pine trees, the sight of our rock, the squirrel scampering up a nearby tree. The only thing that could make today better would be if she was here with me. Next week. She should be home by next weekend, hunting with me on Sunday, just like always. I can't seem to stop smiling this morning.

As I set up snares, my mind is free to step back and evaluate everything that happened in the arena. Analyze it. Pick it apart. Figure out why it happened the way it did. Not what could have happened. Not what should have happened. What happened (and why). And what didn't happen (and why).

Would she have gone through with it? If they had swallowed the berries immediately, they'd both be dead. Why _didn't_ they swallow them? Because this _wasn't_ a suicide attempt. It was a _threat_. A threat against the Capitol. Keep your promise of two victors or have no victor. I just can't believe the Capitol caved. I can't believe they didn't just blast her out of the arena with a bolt of lightning for her defiance. Her rebelliousness. Her reckless, _glorious _rebelliousness.

What puzzles me though is her motivation. Katniss isn't normally rebellious. Well, only in the sense that she is willing to do _anything_ to take care of Prim. Even crawl under the fence as a frightened eleven-year-old in order to feed her little sister. She'll rebel in her own quiet way, but only in order to take care of Prim. She stood up to the Capitol by volunteering to take Prim's place in the Hunger Games, but that isn't really rebelliousness. Volunteering is allowed, after all. Even encouraged. Again, it has _always_ been about protecting Prim.

But, those berries weren't about protecting Prim. In fact, those berries nearly cost Prim _everything_. Katniss could have shot Mellark and won, ensuring Prim a life of ease. Katniss risked not only her own life, but Prim's well-being in a long-shot bid to force the Capitol to allow two victors. _Why?_ Could she really be in love with Mellark? I can't believe that. I _refuse_ to believe it. She didn't even _know _him a month ago.

I go round and round in my head, trying to figure this out. No satisfactory conclusions emerge. By early afternoon I have my whole snare-line set, and three squirrels and two rabbits hanging from my belt. I don't dare stay out too late since they're likely to turn the fence on again since they'll be running recaps of the Games at the celebration tonight.

To my surprise, I see that Vick sits on the far edge of the Meadow as I make my way home. I stop to see what he's doing. No surprise, he's going over his notebook. Adding Cato as the final death of the Seventy-fourth Games.

He's crying because he was glad Cato died. He was rooting for it and it made him sick. He's disgusted with himself. I try to explain that it was natural for him to want Katniss to win and therefore for Cato to die, but he can't rationalize the way I do. Of all of the tributes, he was the one whose death I was rooting for all along. I don't feel the slightest bit of remorse over his death.

After finishing my trading at the Hob, I head into town with a squirrel for the baker. He's more talkative than usual as we complete our trade. He mentions how different everything will be once they get home. They'll both be living in Victor's Village. They'll no longer be required to attend school. They'll never have to work. The district will be receiving extra food for an entire year as a result of their victory. It will be a year of plenty. I can't even wrap my head around the changes. I can't seem to get past the thought of them living near each other. Will they spend every day together? The thought of Katniss and Peeta being hereafter always referred to as "they" and "them." As a unit. It's extremely disturbing.

I stop by Madge's with some strawberries. A little thank you gift for being there for me during the Games. Annis answers the door.

"Mr. Hawthorne," she smiles. (I've been promoted to Mr. Hawthorne ever since the day I found Madge and brought her home safely).

"Hey Annis, is Madge home?"

She invites me in and tells me Madge is in the music room. Really? They have a _room_ just for music? She directs me to the end of a long hall and lets me find my own way while she returns to her other duties.

As I walk down the hallway, I hear music. I smile to myself. Well, I must be heading in the right direction. I follow the sound. I realize the house has always been perfectly quiet on my previous visits. Mrs. Undersee's headaches make it a necessity. She must be having a good day. Of course. The Games are over. District Twelve even has a new victor. _Two_ new victors.

The door to the music room is ajar and I push it open, freezing in surprise. Softly flowing music fills the air unlike anything I have ever heard. Madge sits behind a huge white piano, her eyes closed, and her slender, white fingers running over the keys with practiced expertise.

I approach quietly. It is times like this that my hunting skills come in quite handy. I don't want her to know I am here. Not just yet. She plays on and on, oblivious to my presence. I watch her profile, outlined by the soft sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains. The music swells and crests before coming to an abrupt end. She sits there breathing deeply. Her eyes slowly flutter open as she returns to earth from wherever her music took her. So then, music is her escape. As the woods are mine.

She senses my presence, turning her head slowly towards me with a welcoming smile. "Gale, I didn't hear you come in," she says softly.

"I'm not sure you would have heard a bomb exploding in the square," she looks slightly surprised at my comment. "You were so far away, enjoying your music. You're very good." I'm no judge of musical talent, but I'm sure that is a gross understatement of an exquisite talent.

"Thank you. I think," she smiles at me crookedly.

"Is your mother feeling better today?"

"Yes. I can only play on days that she doesn't have a headache. Those days are fewer and fewer in the past few years. She used to enjoy hearing me play. Now she can only tolerate it from a distance on good days," she says, getting up from the bench.

"I brought you some strawberries." I say, producing a small bucket. "They're a gift. A thank you for being here for me during the Games."

"Thank you, Gale. You didn't have to get me anything, though. You were here for me, too. It's what friends do, remember?" she says, taking the pail.

We walk through a series of back hallways, coming out in the kitchen, where she leaves the strawberries. We step outside into her backyard.

"So, what happens when Katniss gets home, Gale?" she asks quietly. She wants to know where we stand. And, I don't blame her. I want to know where we stand. Where I stand. Or stood.

"I don't know. She's announced to the whole world that _he_ has no competition. She risked her life for his. But, I can't imagine her with him in District Twelve. Katniss and I are a _team_. We understand each other. We come from the same background. Expect the same things out of life. I never imagined myself with anyone but her."

"I see. So, I was what? A distraction? A flirtation? A diversion?" she asks. I see tears shimmering in her eyes. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I didn't want to hurt Madge.

"I can't afford to feed another mouth, Madge. Especially without Katniss if she's no longer my hunting partner. We bring in more than twice as much when we hunt together." I'm rambling. And that came out all wrong. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

"You're worried about how much I would _eat?_" she asks, incredulous.

"Not you so much as the family we'd undoubtedly have. If we were to get married, that is." Where the hell did that come from? I really should just leave. No telling what I will say next. And her music had me in such a pleasant mood, too. I can't marry Madge! She's the Mayor's daughter.

She looks completely stunned. "So, if you married _Katniss_ you wouldn't have to worry about how many mouths you'd have to feed because she's rich now?"

"No! No, that has nothing to do with it," I say, frustrated. "I always pictured we'd go on the way we have for the past few years, except we'd eventually get married. Katniss doesn't want kids, and I couldn't afford them. At least not until Rory is working."

"So, its children you're worried about? But…if you married anyone - even Katniss - then you'd most likely have children."

Oh, how did I get myself into this? More importantly, how can I get myself out of this? I'm beginning to detest strawberries.

"No, we wouldn't. There are ways to prevent it. Katniss is not like you." I state, haltingly.

"What do you mean, not like _me?_ What's wrong with me?" she's definitely going to start crying.

"_Nothing_ is wrong with you." How could she even think such a stupid thing? "In order to prevent kids you have to be… very disciplined and… careful. Katniss and I could be that together. She wouldn't allow it to be any other way." I'm pacing now. "You and I go up in flames every time we touch! There is nothing disciplined about that. We'd probably end up with four kids in three years if we were married!" I shout. Oh great. Now I'm shouting at her. Way to go, Gale. That's not going to make her cry or get the servants' attention, or anything.

"So, you want to marry Katniss because you _aren't_ as attracted to _her_ as you are to _me?_ Do you realize how completely _ridiculous_ that sounds?" she shouts back. Madge has never raised her voice to me before.

"Our passion is only _one_ of the reasons we can never be together, Madge. You have no idea of the realities of life in the Seam. Watching your family on the brink of starvation. Watching your neighbors dying. Feeling guilty for not sharing the little meat we have with those who have _none._ Compared to the other families we have plenty, but there are many nights we go to bed hungry. Have you ever gone to bed hungry, Madge? So hungry that your whole body hurts? Not even knowing if there will be anything to eat the next day, either?"

"No," she admits in a small, defeated voice. I don't want her defeated.

"I don't want you to know what it's like. I'd never put you into that kind of situation. You need to marry someone from Town. Someone who can take care of you the way you deserve."

"I don't care about being pampered and taken care of, Gale," she insists.

"You say that. You believe that. But, you have no idea, Madge. Just look at Mrs. Everdeen if you want an example of how marrying down would work out for you."

"You're worried that I'll turn into Mrs. Everdeen?" she rages "Or into my mother?" she adds in a hurt whisper.

"No. Actually, I think you're stronger than they are. Still, I would never pull you down to my level. You'll get over this summer romance." Yes. I'm finally getting it together. That sounds better than a fling or a distraction. "You will find someone else."

"_Who?_ Who am I going to find? There are only eight thousand people in District Twelve. I know every boy near my age. It isn't as if someone new and wonderful can just appear."

"You didn't really know me until a month ago," I remind her. _No competition_ interrupts, unbidden.

"So, you're suggesting I audition the rest of the boys from the Seam to be your replacement? Because I know all of the merchant boys. And none of them make me feel the way you do. I liked you long before this summer."

The idea of her _auditioning_ anyone grates. "What about Peeta? He's probably the only one in the District who can afford to take care of you in the style you were brought up." Uh, oh. I'm certainly _not_ finally getting it together.

Her eyes flash at me. For a moment I think she's going to slap me. "I am _not_ for sale, Gale Hawthorne! And, I'm not going to help you come between them. Peeta has been in love with Katniss since he was _five_. He's never even looked seriously at another girl. You've admitted to me that you've never even kissed Katniss, whereas she's kissed _Peeta_ quite a few times. If you're planning to go after Katniss, you're on your own," she says before storming off.

If the strawberries were Nightlock…

.

Saturday Night, Celebration in the Square

We watch a brief recap of the Games and hear updates on our victors. They are both said to be recovering nicely in the hospital. Katniss has had surgery on her ear to restore her hearing. Peeta has had _extensive_ surgery on his leg. They had to amputate below the knee due to the injury he sustained in the final battle at the Cornucopia. The wound inflicted by the mutt would have killed him if it hadn't been for the tourniquet tied by Katniss they tell us. They praise her resourcefulness and remind us that her mother is a respected healer in District Twelve.

I can tell by the Mellarks' stunned reactions this is the first they have heard the news. Typical Capitol. Oh, yeah. Forgot to mention we crippled your son. But, here he comes. Damaged and only slightly abused.

.

After the recap, there is feasting, music and dancing. It's as crowded as Reaping Day. I think the whole district is here. Capitol reporters get it all on camera. The district is rested and ready to blow off some steam.

I hang out with my friends like I haven't done in months. Actually, we've _never_ hung out like this. Free food and alcohol in abundance is a totally new experience. We eat. We drink. We flirt and dance with all of the pretty girls. Well, all except Madge, who keeps a wary distance. So, I drink some more.

I've never been drunk before. It's a lot of fun, I learn. Even Jax's jokes are funny when you're drunk. I never understood why Haymitch is drunk all of the time, but if it feels this good, then, why not if you don't have to work and you can afford all of the alcohol you can drink?

I find myself dancing with Daphne. I'm so happy about Katniss being alive that nothing can get me down tonight. Nope. Nothing. Not Daphne's clingy ways. Not Madge's scowl. If she thinks she can rain on my parade with her scowl, well, she's delusional. After four years of _Katniss'_ scowls, I'm immune. Totally immune. And drunk.

Varvara invites me to join her for a drink and a dance. Hey, why not? I've decided not to worry about anything tonight. I doubt she's interested in the cousin angle now that the Games are over, anyway. She leads me over to a table full of colorful drinks I hadn't noticed before. She tells me this is the good stuff, not the cheap, clear liquor I've had so far. She hands me a bright blue drink and picks up a green one for herself. We toast to District Twelve before emptying our glasses. Ugh. Too fruity. I shake my head, laughing. I love being immune.

We head back to the dancing and I'm not sure why, but the whole square suddenly seems to be spinning. Madge cuts in on our dance.

"Gale, you've had enough to drink. I think you need to go home."

"Noooo. The party's just getting started," I lean over and give her a happy, tipsy hug.

"Gale," she starts again.

Who is she to cut off my fun? "When do I _ever_ get to cut loose and just have fun? _Never_. That's when."

Varvara cuts back in. I see Madge being led away by someone. "Where…where is Madge going?" I ask, having trouble focusing. The ground is spinning again.

I hear cheers and hoots of approval from my friends as I stumble out of the Square. Arm-in-arm with Varvara Vamp.

Sunday Morning

It is quiet. Too quiet. Why can't I hear my brothers sleeping next to me? Or the birds outside the window? Or my mother shushing Posy?

I pry open my eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight flooding the room. The room. I bolt upright in bed. I am immediately overcome by a wave of dizziness. I fall back onto the bed with a groan.

Where am I? Why am I here? I'm naked. How did I get naked? I claw through the memories from last night, which are fuzzy and muddled. Like my tongue.

Madge. I had a fight with Madge. I danced with Daphne. With Madge. With Varvara Vamp. The last thing I remember is leaving the square with Varvara Vamp.

I pull myself out of bed and head for the bathroom I can see across the room. I can barely walk. I have to cling to the walls like a baby just learning how to walk. But, I somehow manage to make it to the bathroom before I vomit. No alcohol. Ever again.

What the hell happened last night? Why can't I remember anything? I got that drunk? To the point of a _blackout? _

I go back to the bedroom and search for my clothes. Not here. There is nothing to wear but a sheet which I promptly rip from the bed and wrap myself in.

I test the door. Locked. I sink to the ground, holding my spinning head in my hands.

If I've finally lost my virginity, I'd at least like to _remember _it. And who I was with. Please, not Varvara. It should have been Katniss. When we get married. Confusing images float across the back of my mind, just out of reach.

I fist my hands in my hair. Struggling to remember.

For a man like me, a hunter, a predator even, this is the worst kind of torture. What happened last night? What was in that blue drink Varvara gave me? Was I the prey?

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers for the last chapter!

Maci, TheDeathlyHallows-123, ClatoLover, mimitails, darrena, TWIMOMJAIME, yellowsunshine, Bren, veronique2, NormalTeenageFirl, gabz1197, plutolover, Flaming Arrows, Juliana, nschro3, HabsGirl31, PerfectTwo, DancingDP, Helen, Katara97, 22Moons, AliceW, Lorelei Eve, Mikey337, SrpiaEahn , thglover123, Anonymous, 4-eva-bookworm, The Magic of the Night and Pinklove21

And a _special_ thanks to the reviewers who have reviewed all or nearly all of the chapters so far:

Ellenka, FortuneFaded2012, Nonamer44, MUSICFOODANDFLORAL, Kerinh22, Aninha Flavia, Iridescent Bookworm, God1801, EStrunk, Gales Lover and Kaitleen. You guys are amazing and your support means a lot to me!

Now, who thinks they know what Gale can't remember?


	27. Chapter 27

I'm terribly sorry for the ridiculously long delay in getting this final chapter out to you. This past year has been a very difficult one for my family. I appreciate all of the emails, thoughts and prayers.

As usual, anything you recognize isn't mine, but Suzanne Collins'.

I never intended to leave you all hanging so long with such an evil cliffhanger. You may want to go back a few chapters and refresh your memory if it's been a while since you last read. Lots to cover here. This is the second longest chapter in the story, coming in at around ten thousand five hundred words.

The Games have ended. We have two Victors. There was a big celebration in Twelve. Gale woke up naked in a strange room with fuzzy memories of the night before…

ღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷஐღღஐƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒஐღ

**Chapter 27**

**The morning after…**

**Sunday morning, Day 2 post Games**

Why can't I remember? I bang my head against the wall in frustration, bringing on another wave of nausea. More roaring in my ears. I swallow down the grief and fear. Get a grip, Hawthorne. I glance towards the window. The sunlight is blindingly bright, making my head pound. The slant of the sun tells me it's still morning.

I'm naked. In Madge's house, I presume. This room is nearly identical to the one I used before. Have I been here all night? How did I get here? If the Mayor finds me here naked, well... he'll probably have me shot first and ask questions later.

I need to find a way out. A way home, undetected. Then I can try and piece together these fractured memories. If I can get myself home alive.

I push myself to my feet, sliding up the wall and take stock of my surroundings. The two windows overlook the Undersee's garden. I'm on what looks like the third floor and the windows won't budge. They're sealed.

The questions swirl in my mind. Not only how did I get here in the first place. Why am I here now? Naked? Locked in? A prisoner?

How am I going to find my clothes? Or something less conspicuous than a sheet, at least.

Varvara's face intrudes into my mind. Her lascivious smile. Too close. Much too close. Her hands on me. Too intimate. Much too intimate. Shouting. Confusion.

I hear a noise outside my door. Do I call out? No, remain quiet? I can't think clearly. Form a plan, Hawthorne.

The door abruptly slides open and the Mayor steps into the room, backed by a small army of Peacekeepers. This is not good. But, at least he'll put me out of my misery. He motions for them to stand guard in the hall and the door closes, leaving us alone. My first thought, oddly enough, is that I'm at a decided disadvantage standing here in nothing more than a sheet. As if there were any advantage to be had over the man who runs the whole District. Madge's father.

"Well Mr. Hawthorne, just what am I going to do with you?" The Mayor's patronizing tone is like nails on a chalkboard, setting me even more on edge, if possible.

Does he expect an answer or is his question rhetorical? Expecting the latter, I remain quiet.

"I don't need any more attention drawn to Madge than has already been. Her intervening on your behalf with Ms. Vamp last night was extremely embarrassing. Quite dangerous, her name being linked with _yours_."

What the hell did happen last night? "I'm afraid I don't remember what happened last night. How I got here, sir. How Madge intervened?" Intervened with Varvara? Oh, yes, please let her have intervened.

The Mayor's glare tells me he has no intention of explaining things to me.

"The specifics of last night are not important. What may or may not have happened last night is unimportant." Not important to him, obviously. Most definitely important to _me_. Hopefully, Madge will be able to tell me. "What _is_ important," he continues, raising his voice "is that I have plans for Madge's future. Plans that _you_ are not going to derail. She is going to study at the Capitol Music Conservatory. She will marry a man from the Capitol. She will be safe. Her children- my _grandchildren_- will be safe. I will go to any length to protect her. _Any_ length."

My mind is still a bit fuzzy. "I would never do anything to hurt Madge, Mayor."

"You already have," he states, making my heart sink. Remembering her teary eyes in the garden yesterday when we argued. Wondering just how much he knows. "If she is in love with you, she's going to insist on staying here. In favor-forsaken District Twelve. She'll sacrifice herself for love. For you." He smirks. "Very romantic. I'll _neve_r allow it to happen. You are to make it quite clear to her that there is no future for the two of you. None at all. You are not to be seen as even friends, although we can't deny any level of acquaintance with you both being Katniss' friends. That and the very... heated embrace that was viewed by Ms. Vamp and others in this very house only a few short weeks ago.""

I cringe when he mentions our staged kiss. If he knew of the others... And, in love with me? He thinks Madge is in love with me? Will sacrifice herself for me? How? "Madge knows I plan on marrying Katniss, sir. I've been very honest with her. What exactly are you asking me to do?" I ask carefully. My head is pounding. Trying to follow everything is taking more effort than it should.

"Marry Katniss? They'll never let that happen, my boy. You're cousins, remember? But the only one I'm concerned about is Madge. You are ruining all of my carefully laid plans for her. She has known of my plans for years and never questioned them. Until _you _started spending time with her. Until _you_ seduced her into your arms. So, _you_ must do whatever is necessary to break her heart. To make her see that she cannot have a future here in Twelve. To make her anxious to agree to my plans to send her away. Away from _you_, and most definitely away from _Twelve._"

"And if I refuse?" I practically spit, before realizing I need to soften it, "Or I'm not able to since she isn't in love with me after all?"

"She is and you will. The mines are closed until the Victors are home. That should give you plenty of time to break her heart. Do whatever is necessary to make her _hate_ you, short of bringing her physical harm. I know she has asked you to take her into the woods. Take her. Scare her. Show her that she doesn't know the real you at all. That she doesn't know the real world at all. That nothing is safe or predictable unless she is protected by someone with power and influence. And…I'll give you until Wednesday."

That he could talk so cruelly about his own daughter astonishes me. Perhaps it shouldn't, I realize. He is the Capitol's man, after all. "And if I fail?"

He smiles coldly. "Failure means you'll be going to the Capitol as Varvara Vamp's personal pet, and I'll see to it that the only name in the boys' reaping ball next year is Hawthorne."

**Home Sweet Home**

**Sunday Afternoon, Day 2 post Games**

Rory is angry at me. Still. Over Madge. Over staying out all night. Over who knows what else. I really don't have the energy for this talk right now. I have to figure out how to break Madge's heart in order to keep my family safe. In order to keep Rory from being reaped next year. For the Quarter-Quell. At least Rory will be happy when she hates me.

"Are you going to fight for her?" Rory asks accusingly, following me around the cramped house.

I know he means Katniss, but it's disconcerting to realize his comment could apply as easily to Madge. "For Katniss? You heard what she said in the cave. Mellark has no competition- anywhere. That was definitely directed at me."

"Yeah, I know she _said_ that," he concedes. "But… that was in the Games. And you never even told her before she left how you feel, did you? What if she said there's no competition because she doesn't know that there is a _competition?_ If she thinks no one else is interested in her… in that way. If she thinks you see her as nothing more than a hunting partner because she is used to seeing you with a string of other girls…" he trails off suggestively.

I loved her first. Well… I _thought_ I was first. But… she knew me first. Spoke to me first. _Smiled_ for me first. If only I had told her before she left. If I had told her, how would that have changed things? Would she have returned my love? Would she have been able to pull off the star-crossed lovers in the Games if she knew how I felt- or would she have ended up _dead_ instead? Or maybe the sole Victor? In all my imaginings - in all of my nightmare scenarios about what could happen in the Games – I never considered this. I had _never_ even considered that she might fall in love with another tribute. Why would I? It's inconceivable that love could blossom in such a place. At such a time! It's still impossible to believe they are _both_ coming home. Or that they are really in love.

If we're not meant to be together then why do I know what you're thinking with just a glance, Katniss? He can't do that. Complete your thoughts. Synchronize with your actions. Complement your strengths. You're the only one I've ever pictured as my wife. My partner in life. My other half. Together we are more than the sum of our parts.

**Monday, post Games Day 3**

The mines are closed this week, which means we simply won't get paid. I can supplement my income by spending some of that time hunting, but most of the other miners don't have that option. We won't be paid, but with the extra rations we will be getting all year, hopefully no one will starve as a result.

The leaders of the rebellion do meet, as we do whenever we can find the time, to plan exercises on surveillance and the training for our men. We can make good use of this time given to us in celebration of the victory of our District. They are more hopeful for the chances of an all-out rebellion since Katniss' victory in the arena. They tell me that her Mockingjay pin was a secret sign of the old rebellion. That others will recognize it and remember. That Katniss' and Peeta's final act in the Games was a spark. That the time is at hand. That we must be ready to act.

If others know about the symbol Katniss wears, surely the Capitol knows as well. But, did _Katniss_ know? And, how much does Madge know about it?

But, how can we coordinate a rebellion when we have no way of contacting those in other districts? How can we be sure the time is right? Look what happened to District Thirteen –and to all of the other Districts- when the last rebellion failed. The only ones who have contact with those in other districts are the Victors themselves. So then…could the Victors be a key to a successful rebellion? Would they risk everything they have gained to help free the masses? Would Katniss? In the past, my answer would have been an unequivocal _hell no_. Now, I'm not so sure I know the answer to that. I'm not sure I really know Katniss anymore.

I spend Monday afternoon with my family. Trying desperately to think how I'm going to deal with Madge. How to break her heart without hurting her? Impossible. Tell her the truth? Unthinkable- too dangerous. And trying desperately not to think about what Katniss and Peeta are up to in the Capitol, with Haymitch and Capitol showers and parties and colorful drinks and all kinds of unimaginable decadence dancing through my mind.

I take Rory and Vick out to the woods with me in the afternoon. What will happen in the weeks and months to come? Will the Mayor send me away to be Varvara's _pet_, even after I deal with Madge? My skin crawls at the idea. Will he reap my brothers? Maybe we do need to leave the District before the Quarter Quall reaping, no matter how things go with Madge. But, what of the rebellion? If there is any real hope of one.

Will Katniss come with me now? She wouldn't come before she was a Victor. Why would she now? She is promised a life of ease with Prim. No more starvation. No more freezing days and nights in a cold cabin. Surely, Prim couldn't be reaped more than once. They are actually _safer_ in the District now, I grudgingly admit. She is a _Victor_. A Somebody. And, they'd hunt her down if she ran.

Would Posy even remember me if I were taken away? I realize that Vick barely remembers our father. And I've spent less time with him than I have with Rory. I have been inexcusably remiss in teaching him survival skills. He's going to need them if we decide to run. When we decide. If there is no hope of a real rebellion and real change then we are going to have to take matters into our own hands- in the forest. It can't be much harder than living in the District.

**Tuesday, post Games Day 4**

I step out of my door to find a young boy awaiting me. He hops up when I emerge and hands me a letter. I take it warily, recognizing the expensive stationary from the Undersees' despite the creases and dirt from the urchin's handling of it.

It is a short note from Madge accepting my invitation for an outing. Except - I never _sent_ any invitation. I close my eyes. Take several deep breaths. Apparently the Mayor has decided to hurry things along. She'll be here in an hour. I send the boy to Dougray's to tell him I won't be meeting him this morning.

I sit on the steps waiting as if for the executioner instead of the prettiest girl in the district.

When she appears she looks as if she just stepped out of a propaganda video promoting the benefits of fresh air and exercise for the youth of Panem. She has on a lightweight pink button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, form-fitting khaki cargo shorts and hiking boots. Her skin glowing, her cheeks blooming. Radiating health in a way rarely seen in the Seam. Her smile would light up the sky if it wasn't already a brilliantly sunny summer morning. Her golden hair is piled up on her head in a riot of curls that immediately makes me wonder what it would look like tumbling about her shoulders. What it would feel like in my hands. Across my face. I don't wonder what it smells like. I know. Strawberries and an intoxicating scent that is Madge's alone.

She practically skips as she comes up the lane towards the house. Something so beautiful and sweet and pure is as out of place in the Seam as a rose in winter. A rose I'm going to step on. Crush beneath my boot. No- her father's boot. As everything in the Seam is eventually crushed by the greed and depravity of the Capitol.

"Morning Gale, I'm ready to go!" she practically chirps, reminding me of Posy in expectation of a treat. A dagger to my heart.

I stare at her a moment, wondering what I offer that produces that light in her eyes. As I sit staring at her, wondering if I'll ever see her smile at me again, her smile dims and finally … is extinguished.

"Gale?" she asks tentatively. "Are you well?" She looks concerned now. As my mother looks when she thinks one of her kids might be ill.

"I'm fine," I assure her, standing up.

Immediately her eyes are dancing and she is practically vibrating with excitement. And I know. I know what I offered. The one thing she has asked for that I have denied her. A taste of freedom. A trip outside the fence. Her father wants me to take her to the woods and scare the crap out of her. Break her heart. Crush her spirit. So that he can send her to the Capitol to marry some rich fool who cannot possibly deserve her. So that she will be content to be safe and rich- rather than _free_ and _loved_.

But, no one is free in Panem. Is anyone ever truly safe?

I suppose he could have us caught and have me punished for kidnapping his daughter and fleeing the District. But she'd be sure to make a scene that no one would ever forget and wouldn't easily forgive him. Oh, how scandalized Twelve would be. That would inflame gossip, linking our names even more closely than they already are. Certainly not a Capitol man's plan.

"I can't believe you finally agreed. Am I dressed okay?" she asks.

"I can't believe it, either. I must be an idiot to have thought this is a good idea. We'll be breaking at least half a dozen laws." As if I would ever have agreed to take the Mayor's daughter beyond the fence- if free to choose.

"No backing out now, Hawthorne," she scolds me playfully.

Despite myself, I have to fight back a smile at her attitude. "You're sure to ruin that pretty outfit of yours, Princess. Crawling in the dirt and bushes is better done in dark colors, as a rule. Shorts and the woods are not a good combination," I say, looking at the exposed curves of her long, toned limbs. My mind threatens to drift. "You're going to have a heck of a time explaining your appearance to Annis or anyone else you might come across on your way home if I take you like that."

"I thought of that, actually. I have a change of clothes in my bag."

Of course she does. What else is in that magic bag of tricks, I wonder. I should always remember that Madge is usually two steps ahead of most people.

We go into the house and she uses the bathroom to change into a black blouse and green cargo pants. Her golden hair has tumbled down around her shoulders, I ache to touch it. I don't move a muscle. She looks even more attractive in the black and green. Less innocent. More grown up. Slightly dangerous, maybe. To my resolve, anyway. My mind definitely drifts. I jerk it back to reality. A cold reality.

I shoulder my forage bag and prepare to leave, only to find Rory glaring at us from the kitchen.

"What is _she_ doing here?" he challenges belligerently.

Posy pops her head around the corner, "Miss Madge!" she squeals, launching herself into the air in Madge's general direction.

Madge snatches her easily from the air and watches Rory warily as I pull him into the kitchen, telling him to be silent.

"What is _she_ doing here? Katniss will be home in a few days. You don't need her anymore," he hisses.

"Keep your voice down, Rory. She won't be coming around anymore after today. Don't worry about it. Now, I need you to help Mom look after Posy today while I'm gone."

"Don't tell me what to do, Gale! I'm here to help Mom every day when you're down in the mines. You're going somewhere with _her_, I suppose?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Rory."

"You're taking her into the woods, aren't you? The Mayor's daughter? Really? Don't you think that is extraordinarily stupid, Gale? Girls can _never_ keep a secret. She's going to go blabbing to all of her Townie friends how you took her to the woods to do it."

"Would you just shut it, Rory? You don't have any idea what you're talking about. Madge and I just need to have a talk, so I can explain to her how it's going to be from now on."

"You're going to tell her you like Katniss and not her?" He challenges.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do," I admit.

He looks at me measuringly for a few moments before nodding his agreement. I leave the kitchen; scoop Posy from Madge's arms, giving her a quick kiss before depositing her on the couch. I take Madge's arm, and practically drag her from the house. No need to wait for the _other_ half of my family to put in an appearance this morning, to make things even _more_ awkward.

**To the fence, and beyond**

As we walk quietly towards the Meadow she pulls her glossy golden hair into a high, bouncy ponytail at the back of her head. I'm still unsure how I'm going to go about repaying all of her kindness and friendship with what I have to do today. Especially not how I will be able do it without her seeing right through me.

"We're going to have to crawl under the fence. I'll hold it up while you slither under, but you'll need to be careful not to scratch yourself on the edge of the wire. But the most important thing is to make certain that the fence is off before approaching it."

"So, how do we do that? Do we just listen for the hum?" she asks.

"Yes, that is generally what we do. Most people are too afraid to get close enough to the fence to hear it. You aren't afraid?"

"No. My father taught me all about the fence when I was little. He even taught me how to shut it off, in case there was ever an emergency."

"You mentioned that once before. Now, that could come in handy in an emergency." Or in a rebellion. Imagine being able to come and go freely between the Districts!

"Yes, I suppose. But, there are always Peacekeepers in the main control room of the watch tower. There is an emergency override switch in my father's office at the house, though."

"Hmm. I suppose it alerts the control room when it's triggered?"

"He didn't say." I file this little bit of information away to share with Dougray later. Two shut-off switches for the fence. One in the tower and one in the Mayor's house. I know the location of the Mayor's home office. It's on the second floor near Madge's bedroom.

The fence is off. We wriggle under and hurry to the edge of the woods without incident. We walk quietly while she takes in the sun-dappled beauty around her. I retrieve my bow and arrows while she is staring up trying to see the sky through the tall trees. I might as well hunt if I have to take her deep enough into the woods to scare her. And I might need them to defend us if we happen across a wild dog or other menace.

"Madge, can we talk about what happened Saturday night?"

She blushes, I note. "What about it?"

"Are you planning to make this as difficult as possible? I know I had too much to drink. I know I acted like an ass. The fact is that I don't remember almost anything after I left the dance floor."

"O-kay?" I can see that she is afraid of my reaction. As if I could be angry at her for anything after how I treated her that night.

"Please, Madge. I have to know what happened. I woke up naked in your house. Thankfully alone and not with Varvara. But I have some fuzzy memories of…being with her. Her touching me. I think you…intervened," I use her father's word. "_Please_, tell me. What happened?"

"Nothing really… happened."

"Why did you…how did you know I needed your help?"

"I know what you're like when you're interested in a girl. And what you're like when you're not. It wasn't hard to figure out. You were clearly uncomfortable with her. It just took me a little while to get away from her assistant and get back to the house. Her whole team is staying at my house. I asked Annis what room she'd taken you to and what condition you were in. She said you were… barely conscious. She and the cameraman had to help you up the stairs. Annis thought you were sick."

"I was naked…so was she. You can't know that _nothing_ happened. Can you?" _Please say yes_.

"I believe you were too drunk to …do…anything. You know…to perform." Her cheeks are flaming, recalling the scene. "And Miss Vamp was livid when I overrode the lock and barged in on you. She wasn't completely undressed, yet. But, she was... on the bed with you."

"So, _something_ could have happened."

"No, Gale. She didn't have more than a few minutes alone with you. And, it really doesn't matter if she tried to make something happen. You were definitely drunk…and probably drugged as well. Whatever happened, if anything did, it doesn't count at all if you didn't decide to be with her with a clear head. And you clearly didn't consent to being with her."

"I don't know about that, Madge. I so want to believe you."

She stops walking and takes my hand, pulling me close. "Believe me, nothing really happened, or I would have hurt her much worse than I did."

Intriguing. I can't help smiling at the thought of Madge defending my honor. "Oh, really?"

"I might have scratched her up a bit when I jumped at her and knocked her off the bed."

"I bet I was happy to see you." What I wouldn't give to have that memory back!

"Oh, you were happy to see me. You told her to get out and leave us alone," she grins up at me.

"And, did she?" Now I'm much more curious about what happened after Varvara left than what happened while she was there.

"No, my father and some Peacekeepers heard the fight and came to investigate. I explained to my father what had happened and he packed Varvara and her staff off to the Justice Building to await the morning train."

"Why would she try such a thing? It's not as if she would have a shortage of men willing to…be with her," I wonder.

"Are you completely oblivious to the fact that every woman you meet falls in _love_ with you, Gale? Tall, dark and brooding. A hint of danger. A dash of bravery. And a flourish of …honor…righteousness. You are good. A good man. Someone that every woman can admire. Or desire. I think maybe she just feels entitled to whatever she wants. Maybe like it was a game to her? We know that Capitolites look on those of us from the Districts as less than human. As pieces in their games."

"Do you really think that? That what happened doesn't matter?"

"I do," she says very seriously.

I reach out and take her other hand in mine. "Thank you, Madge."

"You're welcome," she smiles up at me as I lean down and cover her lips with mine. It is much, much too easy to be with her.

We continue on and I show her my snare line. She is clearly a bit revolted at the sight of the dead rabbit hanging from one of the lines, but she does her best to hide the delicate shudder than runs through her frame at the sight. Well, I'm _supposed_ to repulse her. Maybe this is a good way.

We check all of the lines, finding several more rabbits. I have her help me cut them down, getting her hands dirty in the process. She doesn't complain, but she tries not to look. Maybe we should try actually shooting something, I decide.

We climb a tree to keep a lookout for something to shoot. We have to be completely quiet while we wait. My back is to the trunk of the tree and Madge is cradled securely between my thighs, my arms wrapped around her waist. She'll definitely need some help positioning the bow to shoot from such an angle.

As we sit in silence; I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her sweet fragrance. She almost stifles a giggle, turning her head slightly towards me, unwittingly giving me better access to her neck.

"Are you sniffing my hair?" she whispers incredulously. "I thought we were hunting?"

"Oh, we are," I answer in an undertone, sliding my lips down to her ear. "You must practice staying still and quiet, no matter the distraction."

"Oh, I see," she giggles again.

"Shhh…" I remind her as I explore her neck with my lips and tongue. She turns her head and our lips meet, almost as if by accident. Almost. And then again, deliberately this time. Hungrily. She turns around, straddling me as we devour each other, clinging to each other as if we know our time is short. That this is a stolen moment.

Eventually, we climb down and continue our hunt on the forest floor. Our hunt for game. For something for Madge to shoot. A squirrel is gathering acorns, stockpiling for the winter, perhaps. I point it out, silently, readying the bow. I try to hand it to her, but she shakes her head, squeezing her eyes closed. I take the shot, hitting it through the head, but not the eye.

"You don't want to try?" I ask her as I go to collect my kill.

"No," she chokes, looking as if she's going to cry.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"It's dead."

"Yeah, it's a lot easier to eat that way," I say as I approach her.

"We're not going to _eat_ it, are we?" she asks faintly.

"Not right now, but that's why I hunt. This is where meat comes from." I hold up the offending squirrel.

She laughs, "I thought it came wrapped neatly in white paper from the butcher."

I'm going to miss Madge.

We walk some more, eventually Madge pulls out a blanket and we sit down to see what she has brought along in her bag. It is funny to have Madge here with me, with a picnic blanket and a homemade snack. She has fresh muffins and thermos of water. Very practical choices for Madge.

When we're done, we explore the forest more for fun than for food. By mutual agreement we aren't being especially careful or quiet. More playful. Her hiding, me seeking. Definitely bringing out the hunter instincts in me. I see her, she squeals and runs as I follow.

I catch her up in my arms, spinning her around, pushing her gently up against a tree and kissing her. She trembles in my embrace, moaning softly.

It is like a bucket of ice water in my face. What am I _doing?_ I'm not supposed to be out here having fun with Madge. Seducing her. Which is most decidedly what I am doing. I have to push her away. Make her hate me. I can do this. Can't I?

I take a step back, taking a deep breath. My hands are still against the tree, caging her in, although we're no longer pressed together from lips to hips. I have to do this. Right now, before I can't bring myself to at all.

"We can't do this anymore. Be alone together. See each other."

"What are you talking about?

"Look, you're a pretty girl, Madge. And the Mayor's daughter." I add flippantly. "I was just looking to see if I could get the Mayor's pretty daughter to like me. A boy from the Seam, you know? If you would give me a chance. I never intended for it to go this far. It was supposed to be a distraction, of sorts. A challenge. But, we really can't see each other again after today. With Katniss coming home and all..."

She looks completely stunned at my sudden change of direction. "Because Katniss is coming home?" she echoes.

"No. Not that, really. It's just too dangerous to play around any longer. To you. To my family. To _everybody_. I mean, I'm just a boy from the Seam and you are the Princess of District Twelve."

"_Dangerous? _What are you talking about? How is it dangerous?"

"It just is. This is the last time we will ever be together. We eliminate the danger if we can't be seen together by not being together. Ever again." She looks as if I've slapped her. Maybe this is good. If she hates me, then I've done my job, right?

She's breathing hard and her face is flushed again.

"Just, just please don't cry, okay?" I plead. I really don't know what I'll do if she breaks down crying. Probably anything to make her stop.

"_Cry?_ You think I'm going to _cry?_" she screams at me. "I'm not going to cry you big oaf! I'm going to beat you with a stick until you tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

I stare at her, speechless, like the big oaf that I apparently am.

"What was that supposed to be? That rehearsed 'shove-off Madge' speech?" she demands.

I guess she didn't buy it.

"I think I deserve better than that from you. I deserve honesty. I don't for a minute believe that you were deliberately using me to distract yourself while Katniss was in the Games. Or that you're quaking in fear over her reaction to our -whatever you want to call this between us."

"I'm not afraid of Katniss. But I'm going to have enough difficulty separating her from Mellark without _this_ coming to her attention."

"You have already told me you think you belong with Katniss. I know that is what you think. But, I disagree. I think you care for me more than you're willing to admit. Why won't you allow yourself to see the possibility of us? How right we are together? How happy we could be together?"

"Happy? What does happy have to do with anything? Happiness is no more than a momentary emotion! You don't make life-altering decisions based upon something so fleeting and whimsical." Don't let her distract you, Gale. Get back on point. Drive home how different you are. "At least, no one who has grown up in the Seam would ever entertain such an idea. There is very little to be happy about in a life lived in the Seam, Madge. I won't even consider doing that to you."

"Well, who says we would have to live in the Seam? You're exceptionally smart and charismatic. You could do anything. I could talk to my father. I could ask him-"

"NO!" I step closer, grabbing her hands urgently, pinning them to the tree. The very idea of his likely reaction to such an appeal is chilling. "No, Madge. You must promise me that you will never, _ever_ ask your father to intercede on my behalf."

I can see the gears whirring in her head as she absorbs my outburst.

"He threatened you," she whispers. "My father _threatened_ you," she restates forcefully, her eyes flashing in anger.

"Madge, calm down. He only wants what is best for _you_. He knows that isn't me."

"That's not true!" she argues.

"It is Madge. You must see that."

"I _love _you, Gale. And I think you love me, too," she insists. "You cannot deny what we have is real. It's more than just lust or desire, whatever you want to pretend."

She loves me. I pause. "But, does how we feel really matter, Madge? I do _care_ about you. I do _desire_ you. I want you safe and well cared for, above all else. Being with me doesn't make you safe. Doesn't assure that you will be well cared for."

"He wants to send me away from Twelve. Away from everyone I love."

"If happiness as a state of being exists, then I wish that for you, Madge. Marrying someone from the Capitol is surely the most likely way to achieve it. Complete safety for you. For your children. Never having to worry about them going hungry. Never having to watch them stand as sheep ready for the slaughter in a pen of children waiting to see who will die to pay for the crimes of their grandfathers."

"I never said anything about marrying someone from the Capitol. Why would he tell you that? I would rather marry someone I love and live in the Seam than marry some shallow freak from the Capitol! I could never be happy there."

"Oh, Madge," I sigh in frustration. "Happiness itself as a goal in life? It honestly isn't something I can relate to. Inhabitants of the Seam don't dare to hope for _happiness_ for their children. They hope for full bellies. Health and safety. A long life. Someone to share the burdens with. Maybe that is some form of happiness, but happiness as a predictable, lasting feeling? As the goal unto itself? Surely that must be a fantasy. At least in Panem. Do you even realize the differences in our lives? I'm not even talking about things you take for granted such as electricity and running water. A baby born in the Seam has about a fifty percent chance of living until its fifth birthday. I'm sure the odds must be much better in town. And in the Capitol? I don't imagine the idea of having to bury their own children ever even occurs to them. I don't want you to know these things. I don't want you to experience the horrors I've witnessed."

I take her face carefully in my hands and tilt her chin up. I see the tears on her cheeks and gently wipe them away with my thumbs.

"You want me to marry someone I don't love," she accuses softly, but I can sense the fight is nearly over.

"No. I hope you fall in love with someone you meet there. Marriage can't be based only on passion or even love, Madge. Love, or at least affection, will hopefully be one factor. But it has to be based on more practical, lasting qualities such as compatibility, and expectations in life first."

"I could refuse to go. We could fight for change. No one should have to live like that when the Capitol has food to waste and medicine that can cure nearly any illness. There was a rebellion before. There could be another one," she says fiercely.

"When the time comes, I'll put you on that train myself, if necessary. If there ever is a rebellion, I want you out of harm's way." I definitely want her far away and safe if our rebellion ever takes root.

"I could help, if I were here. We could fight together. With my connections and my ability to move about my father's house and the Justice Building-"

"No. If it comes to a fight in my lifetime, then I'll probably die fighting to free Panem from the rule of the Capitol. I won't leave a widow and children behind, alone and unprovided for."

"But, if you marry Katniss?" she asks quietly.

"_If_ I marry Katniss, we won't have any children. And she's always been my hunting partner."

She turns away and I drop my arms. She walks quietly away, deeper into the forest. I follow, keeping careful lookout for trouble. Should I take her back now? I think I have accomplished obliterating all hope of a future for us.

We walk quietly until we come to a ridge. She stops to admire the view of the mountains in the distance.

Without turning to me she asks quietly, "Will you tell me what my father threatened you with?"

"No."

She sighs and turns towards me. "But you believe him to be serious?"

"I can't afford not to." She nods in understanding, watching me searchingly.

"He threatened your family, didn't he? I think that would be the fastest way to get you to cooperate."

"I…I…Madge, I can't talk about this."

"You're not talking. I am. I think I know you pretty well. You said _your family_ was in danger. I definitely know my father and how he thinks. If he thinks he's protecting me there isn't much he wouldn't consider doing. It's kind of frightening, actually." She wraps her arms around herself as she considers the possibilities.

I step forward and wrap her in my arms. "Madge, it doesn't matter what he said. What he threatened. He's right. And I'm going to do what he wants, so he'll never have a need to carry through with his threat. And- you definitely can't confront him about this. If he even _suspected_ that I told you...That I hadn't done exactly as he demanded..." I trail off, letting her draw the obvious conclusion.

She starts to protest, but I silence her with kisses. To her lips. To her wet cheeks. To her closed eyelids.

"He loves you. He wants you safe. And, _I_ want you safe. If you love me, then you want me safe- my family safe. The only way this works- the only way for us all to be safe- is to stay apart from each other."

"Forever?"

"Forever," I confirm.

"Do you believe it's possible to love two people at the same time?" she asks me.

"I know it is," I admit.

She smiles sadly. "I'm glad you told me the truth. If this is the last moment that we will ever have together, then spend it here... with me," she says, drawing me down to the grass with her.

I follow her down, watching her golden hair spill across the green grass and covering her lips with mine.

**The Woods, Wednesday post Games Day 5**

I've reset the snare line. Shot two squirrels. Considered wrapping one in clean, white paper to drop off in town. Except, I don't have clean, white paper. And she doesn't need anything from me, ever.

Was that the best you could do? Really?

Love. Fear. Hope. Desire. Confusion. Victory. Defeat. Exhaustion.

How do I move forward after such a month in my life? Can it really have been only a month since I last saw Katniss? Since I really got to know Madge? Since I thought I knew the answer to everything. Since I thought there was only one right answer to any question.

I can compartmentalize my emotions. Choose which ones I will deal with and which ones I'll master. I am strong. I can do this. I will do this. I have to do this.

I've only ever tried to protect the ones I love. But, that isn't always possible. Not in Panem.

I've always thought I had integrity. But, I was scared as hell when the Mayor threatened to have my brothers reaped if I didn't do as he demanded. And I betrayed Madge's trust to protect them. Shattered it. I've always seen things as black and white. But, I've been mired in a grey fog. Perhaps you can't always stay clean and white and win if you're fighting a foul, black evil. Perhaps coming away grey is the only way to win. Or maybe I'm rationalizing my behavior to mask my disappointment in myself. My instinct- when in doubt- is to fight. But I certainly didn't fight. I capitulated. And would again.

I sit listening to the crickets sing. Out here in the forest things seem so simple. So clean. Unlike back in the District where everything is covered by the black dust from the mines. Where hope is blacked out by oppression.

As for Madge and Katniss. It's easier to love Katniss. Or… it was. It's too complicated . . . too depressing to maybe love someone you know you will never be able to have. Or _two_ someones... If anyone had asked me a month ago if it was possible to love two people at the same time; I would have said no. And- I would have been wrong. Even if the Mayor hadn't threatened Rory, I would have had to make a choice. I couldn't keep meeting Madge when we have no future together. It wouldn't be fair to her. Or to Katniss. We can still have a future together. A good future. I hope. There was only one choice to be made. The Mayor merely forced my hand.

Is it possible for anyone to be truly happy in Panem? I have had moments of happiness. Moments of bliss, even. But, they are never lasting. There is always the cold, hard reality of life waiting. But…if we were to have a rebellion…if we could win…then maybe…then maybe the survivors could be happy. At least happier than anyone is now. And safe. If Posy, Vick, and Rory could be safe, then I could be happy. Or at least content.

But, I would be content to live a life of purpose. Where those I love are safe and well cared for. Where I can make a real difference- if not on a national scale- then at least for my own family.

Contentment. Is that really too much to hope for?

**Victory Ceremony, Wednesday, post Games Day 5**

I meet my family in the Square just before showtime. We'll finally get to see Katniss tonight. It's been five days since they were extracted from the arena.

The anthem blares over the speakers in the Square. Caesar greets the audience and promptly begins introducing the real stars of the Games: Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker; the prep teams, the stylists Portia and Cinna. Effie. When he introduces Haymitch the clapping and stomping goes on for five minutes. The only Mentor to ever bring home two Victors in one Game.

A deafening roar fills the square when the new Victors rise on to the stage. Katniss looks so… _clean_ and healthy and beautiful. So young and innocent in her shimmering yellow dress. Much too young and much too innocent to be a Victor. Or to be a dangerous _Rebel_.

Katniss sees Peeta a few steps away and immediately flings herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He's standing on two legs, but holding a cane. Apparently his new leg isn't completely healed.

Peeta wraps his arms lovingly around my Katniss and kisses her. And kisses her. And _kisses_ her. And, she clearly has no objection. She's right there with him- kissing him back. This goes on for ten minutes. Have they no shame?

The audience is loving it almost as much as Peeta. Caesar finally taps Peeta's shoulder to move the program along, making a shocked, amused face for the crowd. Fanning himself as if they are putting off too much heat to stand. Peeta brushes him off without a glance. The crowd goes berserk again and Caesar laughs along with the crowd.

Finally, Haymitch gives them a shove towards the Victor's chair, which is actually a small loveseat this year. Katniss snuggles in close to Peeta, kicking off her sandals and laying her head on his shoulder. His arm wraps around her, anchoring her close to his side. She clasps his other hand in both of hers. It's as if they cannot get close enough. It's... disturbing to watch.

Finally, the three hour recap of their Games begins. I'm relieved. I'd rather watch the deaths of the twenty-two other tributes for a second time than another minute of the Kissing Games.

Unfortunately, the recap isn't any better than the Kissing Games themselves. For the first time ever the recap tells a _love _story. Two young lovers who will do anything to protect the ones they love.

We relive the reaping, where Katniss volunteers for Prim. Because of a big sister's love. The opening ceremonies where we see them aflame, holding hands, smiling and waving at the crowd. We see the interviews, with a special focus on Peeta's declaration of love for Katniss.

The launch is replayed, with special focus on them communicating wordlessly. Clearly, they have a plan. And an ability to understand each other. Did they really plan Peeta joining the Careers? Maybe he was supposed to infiltrate to get her the bow? But, they can't have known about the rule change. Unless someone in the Capitol tipped them off beforehand? No. She was surprised. The other lovers, Cato and Clove, too, were surprised at the announcement.

We see the bloodbath again, in all of its gruesomy glory. Shots of Katniss and Peeta alternating with deaths of the tributes. We see Peeta mislead the Careers about Katniss, stay awake under the tree the night Katniss was treed, leading the Careers away to the lake after the tracker jacker nest is dropped and fight Cato to help her escape. _Frosting_ himself into the riverbank. Katniss, running from the fire, treed, dropping the tracker jacker nest, blowing up the supplies, killing Marvel and singing Rue to death. Rue, who she grew to love. They play every single note. Vick cries silently at my side. They don't show Katniss adorning Rue's body in flowers.

Then the announcement that changes everything. Perhaps forever. Katniss screaming Peeta's name. Finding and nursing him. Katniss nearly dying, first at Clove's hand, and then at Thresh's. For her love of Peeta- risking it all in order to get Peeta's medicine. The endless hours of kissing and cuddling and laughing. And that accursed sleeping bag.

I can just imagine the Capitol tourists hiking to their little _love cave_ in the years to come. Taking pictures of the sleeping bag left behind. Of course, they took the sleeping bag with them and left it in the packs they abandoned by the lake when they were taken away on the hovercraft, but the Capitol will put it back to make it look as if Katniss and Peeta have just stepped out a moment. Propaganda. Just the idea makes my skin crawl.

The feast, where Katniss very nearly died is shown in great detail. For some reason having to watch her nearly carved to death by Clove isn't much easier the second time, even though I know she survives. Thresh kills Clove and lets Katniss go. They skip Cato holding Clove as she lies there dying. Who cares about the humanity of the losers…and their love? A farce.

We see Katniss shoot the medicine into Peeta's leg before blacking out.

The epic battle between Cato and Thresh is reduced to a few minutes of gore.

_More_ of the Kissing Games.

Ginger's death by Nightlock. I see the hesitation that Vick speculated about. Did she know they were poisonous? I guess we'll never know.

We relive the battle with Cato. Mutts, bloody horn, chokehold, arrow to the hand, Peeta shoving Cato off the cornucopia, mutts, arrow to the head. The final expected cannon.

Then-nothing. Silence. The lack of the expected victory trumpets.

The revoking of the rule change. Their stunned reactions. Their refusal to kill each other. Peeta's declaration of love. Begging her to shoot him so she can go home. Pleading with her to give them their Victor.

The Berries. The Threat. The Victory. The Spark. Ah, love conquers all. I can't quite believe this is the theme they are going with. I still can't believe they didn't blast her out of the arena when she pulled out those berries. If I had been Seneca Crane- I would have. That's a difficult thing to admit to myself. Sometimes clarity can be painful.

The broadcast ends with something we haven't seen before. A scene from inside the hovercraft, immediately after they were extracted. Katniss screaming Peeta's name, banging on a panel of glass that separates them as the doctors fight to revive him. I wonder how close we came to having only _one_ Victor. Ah, if only.

We've seen all of this in a split screen with Katniss and Peeta cuddled up together on the Victor's couch up in the corner, reliving what has to be the worst three weeks of their lives.

President Snow comes out to crown the Victors. He picks up the crown. Only one? No wait. He breaks it in half, making two smaller crowns. Clever stagecraft. I admit I'm impressed. They think of every little detail. But miss the danger lurking in the theme. Love? No. Love Conquers All? Yes.

That is the message they are sending. How can they not see that as incredibly dangerous? Subversive even?

The new victors are whisked off to a party in their honor where they'll be hobnobbing with President Snow, the Gamemakers, the other Victors and the elite of Panem.

Tomorrow will be the interview and the day after she will be home. Home. Alive. With him. But alive.

That night I am plagued by nightmares. Nightmares of Katniss with Peeta. Even worse are nightmares of us together… me and Katniss…then me and Madge. I wake up muddled and confused. Realizing that they were only dreams. Is that all they will ever be?

**Interview Day, Thursday, Post Games Day 6**

I wake up early, poorly rested, but determined to do something productive today. Planning a rebellion definitely suits my mood. I skip breakfast and head straight for Dougray's.

**Interview, 4pm Capitol time, Post Games Day 6**

Mellark and Caesar do most of the talking. Katniss cuddles shyly into Mellark's shoulder.

"Well, Peeta, we know, from your days in the cave, that it was love at first sight for you from, what? Age five?" Caesar asks.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Not again. Once was more than enough.

"From the moment I laid eyes on her," Peeta says, gazing adoringly at Katniss.

"But, Katniss, what a ride for you. I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him. When did you realize you were in love with him?" asks Caesar.

I lean forward to hear this. To read her reaction.

"Oh, that's a hard one…" she laughs nervously, looking at her lap.

She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know . . . because she's not really _in love_ with him! She's waiting for Mellark to bail her out.

"Well, I know when it hit me. The night when you shouted out his name from that tree," says Caesar helpfully.

That was one of the worst moments for me. Exposing her position recklessly, in a moment of what? Joy? Relief? Hope?

Katniss gives him a bright smile. "Yes, I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was so confusing and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed," she says thoughtfully, obviously figuring it out for herself as she talks. Katniss is no actress.

"Why do you think that was?" Caesar prods.

I'm leaning so far forward I could probably fall out of my seat if I'm not careful. Yes. _Why _Katniss?

"Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him," she says reflectively.

Keep him? Like a stray? Like Buttercup? Or like someone she never dared to dream about? Never thought she could have?

Caesar dabs his eyes theatrically with a handkerchief.

Peeta leans his head against the side of hers. "So, now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" he asks playfully.

The crowd in Twelve laughs in response. I grind my teeth.

She turns to him. "Put you somewhere you can't get hurt," she says solemnly.

She cares. She definitely cares. That wasn't scripted. It sounds like Katniss. Like Katniss talking about Prim. The only person she really loves. The only one I would have thought she would die to protect.

Caesar asks about all of their various wounds, eventually getting around to the one that nearly killed Peeta at the end.

"So, Peeta, how's the new leg working out?"

Katniss' face drains of color. They didn't warn her? Bastards. "New leg?" she gasps. She pulls up Peeta's pant leg, revealing the prosthetic for all to see. "Oh, no," she cries. Watching her cry over Peeta is too painful to watch.

"No one told you?" Caesar asks the patently obvious. Katniss merely shakes her head. Too shaken to speak.

"I haven't had the chance," Peeta says. Well, I guess they haven't been spending the last few nights together, it seems. Something to be grateful for.

"It's my fault," she cries. "Because I used that tourniquet."

"Yes, it's your fault I'm alive," Peeta says teasingly. But, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. As usual.

"He's right," says Caesar. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it."

She hides her face in Peeta's shirt for a few minutes as Caesar and Peeta try to coax back her out. They fall back into their easy banter while she recovers from the shock. The guilt.

He's alive because of you, Katniss. Why are you _crying_ over him? You never cry. My Catnip never cries.

Maybe she's no longer my Catnip. Maybe she's Peeta's girl with the Braids. Or Twelve's Girl on Fire.

They finally come to the berries and Caesar turns his attention back to her. "Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind . . . hm?"

Yes. What was going on in that lovely head of yours?

She pauses a moment in thought. "I don't know, I just . . . couldn't bear the thought of . . . being without him," she says quietly.

And, she means it. She _means_ it. What does that mean for those of us left behind in District Twelve? She couldn't bear the thought of a world without Peeta. He means more to her than Prim, waiting at home for her? No. I don't believe that. In that one moment she simply couldn't face it. The idea of betraying him, after the Capitol made them a team. That has to be it. It has to.

"Peeta? Anything to add?"

"No. I think that goes for both of us," he says.

Caesar signs off and the screen goes dark.

Tomorrow. She'll be home tomorrow. My stomach churns in excitement. And dread.

**Homecoming Day, Friday, post Games Day 7**

We all dress in our best for the homecoming. They'll be televising it nationwide. We are herded towards the front of the platform, where Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are already waiting. Because we are family. Cousins, you know.

I see Madge standing nearby, with the Mayor and her mother. She doesn't even glance in my direction. It's as if I'm invisible to her. The Mayor catches me looking and I feel a chill race along my spine at the triumph of his gaze.

Suddenly the crowd quiets. We can hear the sounds of a train approaching.

The train pulls into the station, stopping before the platform. It's been a week since the victory. A week. Almost exactly a month since the reaping. A new moon.

Reporters swarm around as the crowd surges forward in anticipation.

The doors open and Haymitch and Effie step out, all smiles. They step aside as they announce the Victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. Katniss steps out, holding hands tightly with Peeta. She is gripping his hand as if she is afraid he will let go. They are all smiles, lifting their joined hands in victory, as they did in the chariot at the Tribute parade.

I shift my eyes from their hands to Katniss' face and see her looking back at me. Not Prim. Not her Mom. Me. She smiles tentatively, as if wondering what I make of everything she has done. She did what she needed to do to survive. As she always has. I smile warmly at her, relieved to have her home in one piece, even if she is clinging tightly to Peeta at this moment.

Is this the end? Hell no! The odds will be in my favor this time. District Twelve is _my_ arena. Wait til the Capitol sees what I have to offer in tribute.

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Seeing as how 234 people have this story on alert I knew I couldn't just leave it hanging forever. This chapter wraps up the Jealousy Games. It is completely canon compliant, but I think this Madge has to survive the bombing, although as far as Katniss knows, one of the unidentified bodies in the Mayor's house is assumed to be hers. She doesn't have to survive; this could just be another tragic ending to a chapter in Gale's life. Or his epilogue can have an explanation of the new set of lips he is kissing in District Two and why Katniss never learns that the lips are Madge's….

Please let me know what you thought of this final chapter and if I should go ahead with the epilogue if any of you are still out there reading. I definitely don't have the time to write Catching Fire and Mockingjay from Gale's POV, but the Epilogue is doable and would include Gale reflecting back on some of the key events of the last two books. Thanks for your patience!


End file.
